


fallaces sunt rerum species

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - MAMA (Music Video), Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: Ten years ago, Jongin's life fell apart when the world as he knew it was destroyed over the span of a few hours. Ten years later, Jongin's life as he knows it now is about to fall apart all over again.





	fallaces sunt rerum species

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** Implied sexual harassment is by a minor character. Non-graphic descriptions of violence and blood. 
> 
> [written for prompt #76]  
>  
> 
> Dear prompter, I hope you won't mind me turning this into a MAMA!AU. The prompt really called out to me, and I think I might have gotten a little too ambitious with it, but I had lots of fun building a new world out of it. Please enjoy ^^ 
> 
> Also to L, the loveliest, most amazing beta I've ever had, I don't know what would I have done without you. Each and every feedback of yours were amazing, as well as incredibly detailed, and they certainly helped me find my direction and cemented my resolution to complete this fic no matter what. You deserve half the credit for this monster of a fic. Much love to you♥
> 
> Dear readers, I hope you'll enjoy this, even if KaiLay isn't your favourite pairing! :)

_fallaces sunt rerum species, quibus credidimus.  
[appearances are deceptive, and in these we trust]_

_\- De Beneficiis IV.34.1 ; Lucius Annaeus Seneca_

 

 

 

 

There's only the rustle of muffled footsteps, a monotony of left, right, left, right that fills his senses as Jongin trudges across the sand in his heavy boots. His breathing is laboured, considering the weight he's carrying on his back, his muscles screaming in protest at the strain he's putting them through, but he's still somewhat grateful for the distraction. 

After all, Jongin has never liked walking past these ruins—everyone calls these localities the Detrita, seeing that there's nothing but rubble and sand left behind—on his way back home. Innumerable people have died here, bodies buried beneath rubble and left to rot, existence forgotten in everyone else's panic to flee. The atmosphere would grow creepier as the sun begins to set, and Jongin shudders when he remembers the rumours exchanged between the townspeople, saying that the Detrita is haunted. It's enough to get him walking that much faster, when he eyes the sky and finds that it's already late afternoon. Less than three hours to go till the sun sets. 

He _would_ take a different route back to town if he could, considering that it would be much safer, but he would have to circumnavigate around the ruined city in order to accomplish that. It's simply not doable, when it adds at least half a day to his journey, and Jongin honestly isn't too keen on spending the night in a completely deserted location without a roof above his head. 

Jongin would also consider himself lucky, if he doesn't get attacked and ransacked by thugs on the outskirts of Shin-Seoul in the dead of the night. As it stands, it's dangerous enough in the day. 

More than a decade ago, this wasteland used to be a megapolis, with majestic skyscrapers dotting the skyline and busy streets which were always filled with people and transport vehicles. The city was always abuzz with activity, until suddenly it fell completely silent one day. Jongin doesn't remember the cityscape all that clearly now; he was a mere tender age of ten when mayhem struck, and the books depicting Seoul's has-been glory aren't completely accurate, either. Even though the current government is trying to rebuild the entire city from scratch, they can't possibly create a perfect replica of it. Many a technology was lost in the apocalypse which destroyed Seoul and many major cities across the world, doomed to never be able to be retrieved. The entire world is still reeling from the aftereffects of the apocalypse, having more than three quarters of its population wiped out in the short span of a couple of hours. Some countries were able to rebuild themselves a little faster than the rest, though ultimately the availability of funds dictated how well they could do it. 

In that aspect, perhaps Korea's ruling government has had a lot less luck than its neighbouring countries. Progress is slow—painfully so—and the grouses of the citizens have been largely left ignored, brushed away with the claims that the government's financial reserves were low. 

While he might not remember the original landscape of Seoul, Jongin still has crystal clear memory of that fateful day, when the world as he knew it had abruptly ended. His mother had scooped him up from the ground, where Jongin had been playing with his toys, and immediately ran out of the house to join the rest of the neighbourhood in fleeing their town. Jongin remembers being terrified at the sight; he'd never seen such a large crowd before, let alone so many adults shouting and screaming in panic, running away from the unknown. Jongin had wanted to ask his mother what the commotion was about, only to have his question interrupted midway by the sound of a loud blast coming from the city centre. His eyes had gone very wide as he watched the tallest building fold at its base, before crumbling to the ground fifty storeys below, sending a massive cloud of debris into the air, enshrouding the city of Seoul in an ominous veil of orange and brown. 

It had, of course, triggered even more panicked screams from the fleeing crowd, and young Jongin started to bawl his eyes out, question forgotten. 

His mother left him with their neighbour—a kind, warm lady named Mirae—when they arrived at the nearest bunker, pleading with her to keep Jongin safe. Jongin had made a grab for his mother's wrist when she had turned around to leave, eyes fearful and tearful as he looked up at her, asking where she was going. The tenderness in her eyes as she squatted down to eye level with Jongin remains unforgettable till this day—she had told him she was going to get his father to the bunker so that they could all be safe here, and asked of Jongin to be good, to listen to Aunt Mirae while she's gone. She had even promised Jongin she'd be back soon, with his father in tow. 

That was the last time Jongin ever saw her. They never did come back for him, and Jongin has been under Mirae's care ever since. Their bodies were never found, either—as were the remains of many others—but they were still presumed dead, regardless. 

Jongin shudders again when he recalls seeing the image of Seoul in complete ruins the moment he had stepped out of the bunker, several days after his mother had left him behind, small hand held by Mirae's larger one as he stared blankly at the catastrophic scene ahead. It has never left his mind since then, and has become the source of Jongin's recurrent nightmares. 

Swallowing thickly, Jongin averts his gaze from the ruins surrounding him, steadfastly keeping his eyes on the earth beneath his feet as he picks up the pace, fingers digging into the straps of his backpack. He hopes he won't dream of this dead place tonight.

 

♠︎

 

"Mirae?" Jongin calls out as he kicks the door shut behind him, all while struggling with his backpack that's filled to the brim with supplies which are supposed to last them the week. Shin-Seoul's sole market is much too small, much too limited in terms of goods; no one wants to set up shop in the capital, when the rent is being set at such a cutthroat level. The returns aren't high enough for anyone to generate a decent profit out of their goods, and they'd be lucky if they could break even with their losses. As a result, Jongin has to travel all the way to the neighbouring town of Goyang to purchase the other necessities which cannot be found in Shin-Seoul. "Mirae-noonim? I'm back!" 

He frowns when he's met with complete silence, which is out of the norm. Mirae would usually be busying herself with cleaning the house, or preparing meals in the kitchen. It's still relatively early, he knows, but they're running an orphanage with twenty other children under their care, and there's quite a number of hungry stomachs to fill. Dinner is always prepared early. Jongin knows the children aren't around, though; it's the scheduled time for them to head out to the neighbourhood park for some games, and he's sure Seongwoo had taken them out in Jongin's stead. Seungwan is allowed the day off today, while Joohyun is most probably out at the wet market, getting materials for their dinner that evening. 

The worry in the pit of Jongin's stomach grows when he peeks into the kitchen and finds it empty. There's still no trace of Mirae in the orphanage, and Jongin wonders if the pranksters who have been terrorising the town have gotten to her. The notice looking for help tacked to the front door is conspicuously missing, but Jongin isn't sure if they've finally found the extra helper they need, or if the hooligans have torn it down again. It's been going on for the last couple of months, and it's honestly getting on Jongin's nerves. He _would_ have confronted the group of troublemakers by now, if Mirae hadn't stopped him, telling him not to provoke them. She's always the keeper of peace, wanting everyone to lie low and stay out of trouble whenever possible. 

He respects Mirae a great lot, and would loathe to see her being upset, so he doesn't do anything brash. It doesn't mean he won't do anything if she gets hurt, however. 

After discarding his backpack of supplies in the kitchen, Jongin decides to comb the rest of the orphanage for Mirae's presence. It's a good thing he had the sense to search for her in the office—it's more of a combination of her private bedroom and her workplace, really; they don't have the luxury of space, with so many children under their care, even if they did manage to secure a relatively good-sized mansion in Shin-Seoul after the mayhem—first, because Jongin finds her there, deep in conversation with a man. The worry promptly dissolves into relief. 

Mirae beams when she catches him standing at the doorway. "Oh, Jongin! You're back just in time. We've got ourselves a new helper."

Jongin's eyes widen at the announcement, feeling a little surprised. They've been trying to get someone new to help around at the orphanage for _months_ , and Jongin had been on the verge of telling Mirae that maybe they should stop hoping. There aren't many people who'd willingly work with the underprivileged on minimal pay, which is all that the orphanage can afford to offer. Donations are trickling in at snail's pace, and they can't possibly spare that much money to hire someone to help out at the orphanage, even with Mirae juggling another job out there on top of running the orphanage. There have been hopeful candidates dropping by for an interview over the last couple of months, but none of them could be convinced to stay once they find out about their potential pay. 

Jongin, on the other hand, had refused to accept the wages when he discovered about the financial situation of the orphanage, because he still considers himself an orphan under the institution, but Mirae had insisted on paying him. _Consider this as your full time job, Jongin; you still need money to get by in the future, don't you?_ , she had said to him, and Jongin finally accepted it after much persuasion—on the condition that Mirae would always put the situation at the orphanage above Jongin's welfare. If push comes to shove, Jongin's more than willing to give up his portion of the wages, even if it's not much to begin with. 

"Oh?" He wonders aloud, walking into the room. "I thought the pranksters had pulled off our notice again. I was wondering if you'd gotten into trouble, since you didn't respond when I called out for you earlier." 

"Don't worry about them, Jongin. You're overthinking again. They won't try anything funny as long as I have contacts at the police station," Mirae laughs at him, waving him over. "Here, meet Zhang Yixing, our new helper." 

The man who's seated across the table from Mirae turns around just then, flashing a bright smile at Jongin which reveals a small dimple in his right cheek. It's the happiest Jongin has seen _anyone_ since the apocalypse, and Jongin wonders if this Yixing person is really such a carefree soul. No one who lives in these parts of the world seems capable of smiling so sincerely, when they're still trying to rebuild their lives from scratch. Everyone's struggling with their finances on the daily, worrying when their next meal would be, or if they'd be able to survive the rest of the week at all. Even Mirae, who seems bright most of the time, has her own set of worries, and they show in the deep lines etched on her face, the dark circles beneath her eyes. 

Jongin has to admit it, though—Yixing's smile is stunning enough in its simplicity. Genuine. 

"Hi," Yixing greets, standing up from his seat to shake Jongin's hand. It's warm, smooth. The hand of someone who hasn't gone through much hardships in life. Jongin's a bit envious of Yixing, but also a bit wary. He wonders if Yixing will be able to live up to the tasks required of him at the orphanage. "I'm honoured to finally meet you, Jongin. Mirae-noona has had plenty of good things to say about you." 

Jongin's cheeks flame up at the unexpected compliment. "I hope she hasn't been telling you embarrassing stuff about me—Yixing, was it?" The syllables of Yixing's name roll awkwardly off Jongin's tongue, very much foreign. "You're not from around, are you?" 

"No," Yixing shakes his head, amused but polite smile still playing on his lips. "Xin-Beijing, actually. I moved to Shin-Seoul to look for greener pastures. Beijing isn't a good place to live in," he waves his hand around vaguely, possibly trying to find the right word to describe his hometown. Now that Jongin's paying attention, he can tell that the Korean language sounds foreign on Yixing's tongue as well. Accented, but still understandable. "Too... overpopulated." 

Jongin can't imagine what it must be like, coming from Beijing. He hasn't had the luxury to travel so far yet, just to the next city for supplies. Travelling is expensive. But he nods in understanding regardless. "Must have been bad enough for you to want to leave."

"Alright, boys," Mirae interrupts them mildly just then, smiling as she looks between the two. "You might want to shift the conversation elsewhere. Seongwoo will be back with the children soon. Jongin, would you be a dear and show Yixing around for me before then?" 

Jongin perks up at the request. Anything to get away from cooking duty. He's a disaster in the kitchen, anyway. "Sure, Mirae-noonim," he acquiesces, and promptly shows Yixing the way out of Mirae's bedroom.

The orphanage is small enough, located in the outskirts of what used to be Gwacheon city. It's probably a good thing that it used to be South Korea's administrative centre, and several government buildings were still left standing after the apocalypse, though in a condition that's worse for wear. The government quickly established Shin-Seoul on this very ground, deeming some of the structures still salvageable, and they began to reconstruct their lives here, renaming it as Shin-Seoul to give its citizens some hope.

Of course, Gwacheon has devolved a great degree from its former glory, and the street where the orphanage is located upon was almost completely demolished during the apocalypse. The people who survived moved into whatever building which still had a roof to shield them from the harsh weather that followed, though efforts at rebuilding them are continuously dampened by the lack of funds, even now. The streets are still dusty, downtrodden, but it's not as though anyone has any room to complain, when they still have a place to call their home.

It's less than desirable, but beggars can't be choosers. Jongin, for one, is thankful enough that he has a semblance of a family here at the orphanage, even though they come from all walks of life, and Mirae is technically the only adult around here. 

"So you're actually an occupant here, too?" Yixing asks, eyes wide in surprise when Jongin reveals that fact. They've gone through the more important parts of the house, including Yixing's new bedroom, where his meagre belongings are currently lying on the floorboards while they continue on with their tour. Yixing had listened intently to Jongin's explanations along the way, responding rather enthusiastically most of the time. Jongin's somewhat at a loss, unsure how he should act around someone who pays so much attention to everything. Most of the people in Shin-Seoul are only bothered about what's going on in their lives, which mostly revolves around surviving yet another day in this rotting world. No one ever really knows what's going on with their neighbours these days, nor do they care. 

Jongin nods and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. I was the first, actually. I was left with Mirae-noonim on the day of the apocalypse, and stayed with her since. I guess that's what sparked the idea in her to establish an orphanage. She has such a big heart," he says fondly, then points towards the stairwell leading to the basement when they walk past it. "That's the laundry area, by the way. We get all the washing done down there, then air the laundry outside on the lawn when the sun's up." 

"Okay, got it," Yixing nods. Earlier on, Jongin had told him about their chore schedule, which will now have to be altered to slot Yixing in. Seongwoo, Seungwan, and Joohyun would be overjoyed to hear that. "What happened to your parents, by the way? If you don't mind me asking?" 

Jongin scrunches his nose at the question. It's a sensitive topic, to talk about a past which no one really wants to remember. Apart from Mirae, no one else in the orphanage knew of his past, or why he's still here after so many years. The older occupants of the orphanage have all left to establish their own families when they grew up, or were adopted by some wealthier people early on in their childhood. Jongin never caught anyone else's attention, or bothered to venture far enough from the orphanage to find a significant other. Besides, he thinks of Mirae as his own mother now, after spending half his life with her. It doesn't even matter that she disallows him from calling her as such, telling him, "Your parents will come back for you one day, and they'll be upset to hear you calling someone else your mother." 

Jongin just _knows_ they're not coming back. If they wanted to, they would have returned for him years ago. It's pointless to hold on to such useless hopes, and Jongin's no longer that naïve little boy he used to be in the past. 

That boy who used to sit by the living room window, watching mutedly as the pedestrians hurry by on the streets in hopes that he'll catch the sight of two familiar faces in the crowd, is long gone. 

"Their bodies were never found, so we presumed they were dead after what had transpired in Seoul. Mirae-noonim took me in thereafter, since her own family members also perished that day. Both of us had no one but each other left," Jongin says without mincing his words, watching Yixing flinch. He doesn't find the need to conceal the truth, really, and his attachment to his parents is almost completely eroded. He can't miss someone whose face he can barely even remember. 

"Sorry," Yixing winces, flashing an apologetic smile at Jongin. "I shouldn't have asked." 

_It's fine_ , Jongin wants to say, even if it isn't; a small part of him still misses his birth mother, after all, and it's not likely to change any time soon. He's learnt to live with it, pushing the yearning to the back of his mind and leaving it there as a quiet thrum.

Just then, though, the front door of the orphanage bursts open, bringing with it a sudden explosion of giggles and laughter, as well as an exasperated Seongwoo calling after them to calm down. 

Jongin lights up at the sound, their previous conversation promptly forgotten, and when he turns to look at Yixing, he finds that the other man is smiling just as brightly, dimple on his right cheek prominent. "Are you ready to meet the kids? They're a riot." 

Yixing merely nods, and follows after Jongin's lead.

 

♠︎

 

Yixing, as it turns out, is an incredibly hardworking person, and incredibly good with kids, too. The children take an instant liking to the new helper, already crowding around him and asking him for various favours in less than a week's time, even though it usually takes much longer for them to warm up to outsiders. Then again, Jongin thinks it's because Yixing always gives in to their every whim. 

Mirae has commented about Yixing spoiling the children rotten on more than one occasion, but there's a smile on her face as she chides him over dinner. Jongin can tell she's fond of Yixing, too. It's hard not to, with his dimpled smile and gentle demeanour, almost as though nothing in the world can agitate him. Jongin's a bit envious of his carefree disposition. He has long since forgotten that side of himself, when the world has been consistently pushing him to become accustomed with less-than-ideal situations at such a young age. 

Yixing is also a surprisingly good haggler, though Jongin suspects it's because Yixing's charming smile never fails to rope everyone in. Jongin learns of this on their first trip to the neighbouring town for supplies, a week after Yixing's arrival at the orphanage. Even without Mirae's request, he'd meant to bring Yixing to the marketplace in Goyang, knowing that Yixing would have to learn about it sooner or later. Seongwoo is still much too young for Mirae to allow him to venture past the Detrita on his own, and Jongin had protested on the girls' behalf, knowing how dangerous it can get. While Jongin enjoys the short escape from the orphanage, the trips can get rather taxing at times, especially with the constant need to stay vigilant whenever he's traversing the Detrita. It would be good to shake his schedule up a bit, just to keep things fresh. 

But of course, Jongin finds himself staring, mesmerised, as Yixing manages to coerce the elderly lady manning the milk stall to give him two extra bottles at no additional cost. The lady is absolutely taken with him, blushing as Yixing piles on even more compliments than really necessary. They've already managed to wheedle heaps of free stuff from the other stalls prior to this, and Jongin's thankful Yixing's there with him today. He doesn't think he'll be able to carry all this stuff back to Shin-Seoul alone, without having to take multiple stops to rest in between.

"How do you _do_ that?" Jongin asks incredulously, watching as Yixing deposits the bottles carefully in a small carrier and walks away from the stall with a spring in his step. 

He's humming a small tune under his breath, seemingly pleased with himself, and at the sound of Jongin's question, Yixing tilts his head innocently to the side. "Do what?" 

"All these free stuff. How do you manage to coax them into giving them to you?" Jongin explains. For as long as he's been doing this, the shopkeepers have never bothered providing Jongin more supplies than requested, sometimes even deliberately withholding an item or two if Jongin wasn't paying attention. Money's tight for everyone at this time and age. He can't find it in him to get angry or throw a huge fuss, even though Jongin gets rather annoyed at times. 

Yixing looks at Jongin cluelessly, and shrugs. "They must like me a lot more than they do you."

Ouch. _Ouch_. 

"Fine, be that way. You can do the grocery shopping on your own next time," Jongin huffs, triggering a hearty laugh from Yixing, who jogs right up to Jongin and pleads for mercy.

For a moment—a very brief one—Yixing makes Jongin forget all about the bleak situation awaiting them in Shin-Seoul. Things don't seem all too bad for once. 

They make their way back to Shin-Seoul when late afternoon looms, after they've stopped to have a quick meal and to replenish their energy reserves for the long journey ahead. 

In the morning, when it was much cooler and brighter, it was possible to skirt around the perimeters of the Detrita without much difficulty. Jongin preferred taking that route over the shortcut through the ruins of his old city, even if it takes a longer time for him to traverse the distance. Right now, though, with the sun setting earlier and earlier with each passing day, it would be quicker to make their way through the Detrita, albeit more dangerous, because there are thugs hidden in the shadows, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting travellers. Jongin tells Yixing this before they embark on their journey, and Yixing had responded with a grim nod. 

The walk through the Detrita is as unnerving as ever, when there are ghosts—both of the living and the dead—lurking amongst the ruins. Yixing's presence dulls it slightly, a companionable silence enveloping them as they keep their footsteps light but quick, not wanting to alert anyone who might be around, but it doesn't quell Jongin's anxiousness completely. 

As hard as Jongin tries, he can't stop his eyes from wandering, taking in his surroundings even though there's nothing left to see. It's always like this whenever he passes by the area he used to call home, his memories reminding him of the buildings which once stood proud on these very grounds. Jongin tightens his grip on the straps of his backpack when they walk past what remains of his old home, and he swallows hard, trying not to let the emotions overwhelm him. 

Unfortunately, Yixing is too perceptive for his own good, because he pauses in his steps and touches Jongin's arm in concern, stopping Jongin from walking any further. "Are you okay? You look horribly pale."

"I'm fine," Jongin lies, even as his vision swims. He shakes his head to rid himself of the giddiness, and starts walking again. Yixing has no choice but to follow after him, easily falling in step with Jongin despite the weight on his back; his thin frame is a poor reflection of his strength. 

It doesn't mean Yixing would relent, though. "You don't look _fine_ ," he says, a hand on Jongin's shoulder again. A peculiar warmth spreads from the tips of Yixing's fingers, calming Jongin down a little, though he soon lifts it and keeps it firmly by his side. Jongin almost feels disappointed at the sudden loss of contact. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Jongin swallows at the question, conflicted. He's tempted to pour his heart out to Yixing, because something tells him Yixing would be able to understand him, that Yixing won't judge. He seems the type to listen patiently to whatever grouses someone else has to say, and perhaps offer a warm hug when they're done. On another hand, however, Jongin _barely_ even knows Yixing, apart from the fact that he's from Xin-Beijing, and is here in Korea to carve a better life for himself—nothing else. 

This information seems much too personal to share with a near-total stranger, even if Jongin's inclined to trust Yixing. He hasn't even said a thing to Mirae, and he considers her his confidante. 

In the end, Jongin shakes his head no, and picks up his pace, throwing a surreptitious glance at the skies above as he goes. "It's fine. It's nothing. Let's get back to the orphanage before Mirae-noonim worries."

Thankfully, Yixing leaves it at that, but Jongin can't shake off the feeling of Yixing's intense gaze on his back as they continue on their journey.

 

♠︎

 

The dreams plaguing him at night are soon taking on a more peculiar, more vivid form.

On most nights of his life, Jongin dreamt of the day the world had come to a complete standstill because of the apocalypse. He would see his ten-year-old self over and over again, crouched in the bunker with Mirae's arm wrapped protectively around his trembling form. Ten-year-old Jongin never cries, keeping his terrified screams in the confines of his mind, even as the other adults around him shout in fear whenever the buildings outside the bunker crumble to the ground—because Jongin vowed to be brave for his mother's sake. He never knows what's happening on the surface, only hears the explosions and loud rumbles which sounds oddly like thunder, but at the end of the day, ten-year-old Jongin thinks they're all mere products of his imagination. 

This time, though, Jongin dreams differently. He sees himself _outside_ the bunker, watching as the world falls to ruins. There are two creatures circling the sky and fighting each other, flames against flames, and when Jongin forces himself to focus, he realises it's a dragon and a phoenix. Instantly he knows it's a dream; such creatures don't exist in real life. He's read of the myths, of course, claiming that the apocalypse was brought about by a group of people with great ancient powers who couldn't see eye to eye with each other. There have been mentions of a dragon and a phoenix, but at the end of the day, it remains as such—a myth, because none of those who have witnessed the events on the day of the apocalypse had actually lived to tell their tale. 

Nevertheless, his dream takes an odder turn when he sees his _father_ , of all people, zipping across the land, disappearing from one spot only to emerge in another as he tries to distract the dragon. It doesn't make sense, Jongin knows, but he finds himself running after his father anyway, calling out for him to be careful, to _please, stop, you'll get yourself killed!_

The latter part of his thoughts doesn't convey, though, when the dragon breathes out a massive fireball in their direction, and Jongin screams when he realises he can't outrun it in time, he's going to be _dead_ —

Frantic pounding of fists against his door has Jongin bolting upright in his bed, his bedclothes soaked through with sweat from his nightmare. The pale moonlight is streaming into his room through the gap left between the curtains, and Jongin pushes his hair out of his face when he catches his reflection in the mirror, horror-stricken and wide-eyed. His lips are so, so pale, almost as though his body has been completely drained of blood. 

That's when he realises an intense pain is radiating from his left arm, where a microchip is embedded beneath his skin. It's a mechanism the government had designed to track all citizens down, in fears that another apocalypse would happen; at least it would keep all the bodies accountable. Jongin sinks his nails into his flesh, wanting to claw the microchip out in order to alleviate the pain, but his efforts only leave angry red marks on his skin. At least the burning welts help distract him from the pain, somewhat. He tries hard to regulate his laboured breathing, forcing himself to inhale through his nose and exhale from his lips in order to calm his trembling body down. It works, for the most part. 

The ringing in his ears doesn't subside until much later, and the sound of incessant knocking on his door is suddenly much too intrusive, making Jongin flinch. Groaning a little, Jongin peels the covers off his sticky skin and gets to his feet, groggily walking to the door. He nearly gets a knuckle in his face when he pulls it open, if he hadn't jumped back just in time, and he blinks at the sight of Yixing standing there at the doorway, worry etched on his features.

"Jongin, what happened? I heard you screaming from across the hall."

Jongin scrubs his face down with a clammy hand, feeling the beginnings of a headache assaulting him. His throat burns when he swallows against the imaginary lump clogging up his airway. "Bad dream," he explains, voice scratchy. He must've screamed himself hoarse, and alerted Yixing whose room is across the hall from his. Jongin's glad their rooms are on the far end of the house, away from the rooms of Mirae and the other children. He already feels completely drained from his nightmare as it is; he doesn't think he'll be able to handle the children's frightened wailing right now, as much as he loves them. "I'm fine. You should go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up." 

"Are you sure?" Yixing seems sceptical, but Jongin nods regardless, even when he knows he doesn't sound convincing enough. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Yixing," Jongin tells him, faking a yawn. "Go sleep, I'll see you in the morning." 

Yixing doesn't question him further, merely nodding in acknowledgement. "Okay," he breathes, "if you say so. Sleep well." His gaze lingers on Jongin for a moment longer, before he finally retires to his room. Jongin's shoulders sag in temporary relief when Yixing shuts his door, leaving Jongin in the blanket of silence the night offers him. 

He tries to fall asleep again, once his pulse has calmed down enough. He really does. But hours of lying in his bed later, Jongin still finds himself wide awake, eyes bright as he stares at the alabaster ceiling above him. His mind is in an overdrive, replaying his most recent dream in his head over and over again, the thoughts intrusive and unwanted.

 _It doesn't make sense_ , Jongin tells himself repeatedly, _you weren't there to witness it. It's only a part of your imagination. It doesn't make sense_ , but it doesn't work, even when he tosses and turns under his covers. Whenever he squeezes his eyes shut, he would see the imageries unfolding at the back of his eyelids, ever so vivid. It's almost as though his _consciousness_ was out there when the apocalypse dawned upon them, even though Jongin knows this to be false. 

In the end, morning looms with Jongin being unable to get any amount of extra sleep, the exhaustion from the previous day tugging at his bones and making him groan when it's time for him to get out of bed. His eyes are bloodshot when he sees himself in the mirror, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes. He looks like a complete mess, and it's the product of only one dream. 

Jongin sighs, knowing that he won't be able to excuse himself from the day's chores at the orphanage without telling Mirae about his weird dreams, even if he _does_ need the rest. He ends up dousing himself with several buckets of ice cold water to shake himself awake, and pats his face twice before getting dressed to start the day. 

He can only hope no one would ask him about the marks of exhaustion marring his features.

 

♠︎

 

It's late evening after dinner on a Wednesday when it's time for another story, and the children excitedly spill into the living room, tugging at Jongin's arms to get him to walk a little faster. Playtime at the park had been particularly intense, with the children being divided into two teams for a game of soccer, and they'd all sprinted home in peals of laughter and playful shrieks when the mid-autumn rain had suddenly poured. They're supposed to be exhausted from the day's events by then, stomachs sated after having their meals, but clearly Jongin has once again underestimated their energy reserves. 

Jongin doesn't quite understand how the children always manage to be so energetic when he announces that it's time for a story, but still he grins widely when the children crowd around him, all clamouring for him to tell their favourite tale. Story-telling time is his favourite slot out of all his responsibilities at the orphanage, and the least taxing, after all. He gets to seat himself on a floor cushion, with two children draped across his long legs as he lets his tale unfold. It's as comfortable as he can get after a long day, and the closest he gets to having some semblance of family time. 

This time, the two children with the privilege to turn his legs into their personal pillows are Hyunjin and Jongseob, a pair of eight-year-olds who have become the best of friends at the orphanage. Jongin doesn't tell anyone this, but they're his favourites—for obvious reasons. He loves it when they pester him to teach them how to dance, and is impressed by the speed at which they manage to pick up his private lessons. A talented pair, definitely. 

Jongin grins down at them once they've made themselves comfortable on his outstretched legs, tiny arms wrapped around Jongin's calves as they rest their chins on Jongin's knee. "So, what's your pick tonight?" 

"The people with ancient powers!" They both squeal delightedly, and _of course_ they'd want him to tell that tale. Even as a child, Jongin had been fascinated by the story, because _normal humans_ —humans like him—didn't have powers that could potentially change the world. It's all folklore, as far as Jongin's concerned, because no one has ever seen these ancient powers being utilised with their very own eyes, but it doesn't stop anyone from imagining themselves with those powers. It seemed cool to a child.

Then again, after his nightmares the other night, Jongin isn't quite sure if he's still mesmerised by the mere thought of possessing those powers. It seemed dangerous and terribly easy for anyone to misuse for other gains, if it's indeed as powerful as he had dreamt them to be. He involuntarily shudders at the thought, pulling the throw blanket tighter around himself to disguise it as being cold. The height of autumn is fast looming, after all, and the heater system at the orphanage hasn't been functioning well since forever. It's not as though they have the funds to fix it, either, so they'll have to make do with thicker clothes and fervent prayers that the coming winter won't be too harsh on them. 

Yixing enters the living room shortly after, having completed his chores for the night, and takes the far corner of the room just as Jongin prepares to talk. Jongin looks up and acknowledges his presence with a smile, chest warming at the sight of several other children cuddling up to Yixing for warmth. 

"Okay, okay," Jongin says laughingly, raising his arms in surrender when Jongseob starts poking at his sides in lieu of getting Jongin's attention. He catches Yixing's fond smile from the corner of his eyes before looking at Jongseob. His pulse quickens a little, but he ignores it. "We'll go with that story, then. Is everyone ready?" 

When he's met with a chorus of _yes_ es from the children, Jongin clears his throat and begins his tale. He knows it like the back of his hand, from the sheer amount of times he's read the story whenever he needs to find an escape from the bleakness of reality, from the harshness of life. Jongin has always been an avid reader, even when the orphanage can't afford to purchase an entire library of it. Jongin counts himself lucky in that sense—there's a quaint bookshop at the corner of the street where the orphanage is, and its owner, a gentle man called Jungsoo, more than welcomes Jongin to spend his hours seated in a quiet aisle of the bookshop to peruse the books lining its shelves, completely free of charge.

It's been a while since he's last paid the shop a visit, though, his days filled with chore after chore at the orphanage, hours melting together into a blur. The other three helpers hadn't arrived until a year prior, and Jongin had been alone in assisting Mirae with running the orphanage for several more years before. He wonders if Jungsoo would still welcome him now, after so much time had passed. 

But now's not the time to wonder about that. He has an eager audience to please, and it brings a small smile to his lips. 

"No one knows whence they came or when they began to exist," Jongin says, and it's true. There are no further sources in history for them to fall back upon, no indication of the origins of these people who wield the twelve ancient powers as mentioned in the books. _Nothing_. Where Jongin had once marvelled at the thought that they might've _magically appeared_ , he finds himself snorting at the very same idea now, ten years down the line. Growing up has changed his thought process drastically, even when Mirae would sometimes mourn the loss of Jongin's childlike innocence.

There is no other choice; they're all victims of circumstance, and circumstance forces them out of their comfort zone and blissful ignorance in order to stay alive. 

Jongin continues on with his story, grinning whenever the children exclaims in excitement at the descriptions of the twelve ancient powers. The girls squeal in fear and cover their eyes when Jongin describes the external features of the scary dragon in detail, as they always do whenever Jongin tells this particular tale, but this time, Yixing's there to pull them into a protective hug. It's cute, how they peek at Jongin through the gaps between their fingers, little hands still covering their eyes for the most part, as though it'd help alleviate their fears. 

Of course, Jongin catches Yixing's intense gaze on him every time Jongin scans the room for the children's responses. It burns, makes him absolutely flustered. Jongin shudders under the throw blanket, completely unused to the attention Yixing's giving him, but he doesn't let it disrupt his story. 

By the time Jongin nears the end of his tale, most of the children are already fast asleep, quiet snores punctuating the air in the room. Even the usually energetic pair draped across Jongin's legs are struggling to keep their eyes open, and Jongin laughs quietly at the sight. "Alright, let's get you all to bed," he says to no one in particular, though Jongseob whines a little in protest when he hears it. 

"But you haven't finished the story, Jongin-hyung. I'm not sleepy yet—" the kid protests, though his argument is proven to be weak when his face contorts into a wide yawn shortly after.

Jongin wrinkles his nose at Jongseob. "I believe you," he says dryly, picking Jongseob up from the ground with one arm while he grabs Hyunjin with the other. "Come on now, the story can wait." 

He shares an amused smile with Yixing who's on the far side of the room. He's carrying two children in his arms, too, and the scene looks so horribly domestic that it makes Jongin blush. Yixing would definitely make a good father, he thinks. He already has the heart and disposition for it. 

"Shall we carry them to their rooms?" Yixing suggests, eyeing the other sleeping children scattered around the living room, gaze fond and soft. 

"Yeah, we should," Jongin agrees, and they immediately set off on their task.

 

♠︎

 

A smile finds its way to Jongin's lips the moment he steps into the bookstore, the doorbell chiming a sweet melody above their heads as he enters. It almost feels like his second home, from the sheer amount of time he's spent in this enclosed space before real life had gotten in the way, but it doesn't detract from the familiarity and the comfort that embraces him like an old friend. 

Jungsoo, the shopkeeper who was busy rearranging one of the sections of the bookstore, actually beams when he sees Jongin and Yixing coming in through the door. Jongin greets him fondly with a hug, apologising for his long absence before introducing Jungsoo to Yixing. 

Jungsoo doesn't stay to talk to them for long, though, excusing himself to settle the remainder of the work waiting for him around the shop; Jongin learns that Jungsoo's only helper had quit some time last year, citing that the pay wasn't enough to cover his daily expenses. But Jongin _gets_ it; Jungsoo can't possibly afford to offer a lucrative enough wage, when there are so few people coming in through those doors to find solace between the pristine white pages of books. He needs to feed himself, too, and to ensure that the selection on the shelves are enticing enough for his potential customers to actually buy them. 

"He seems nice," Yixing comments the moment Jungsoo is out of earshot, following Jongin to the back of the store where the mythology section can be found. 

Yixing had asked Jongin about the folklore on the people with ancient powers the other night, after they had tucked all the children in. _I've heard of a completely different version_ , he said, _could you show me the books you've drawn your information from?_ Jongin had agreed without much thought, because Yixing had looked so sincere and eager to learn about the folklore making its rounds in Korea, and they'd requested for half the day off from Mirae to visit the bookstore. Seongwoo, Joohyun, and Seungwan can handle the orphanage for a couple of hours on their own. 

"He is. He always lets me read to my heart's content in the shop. I don't even have to ask for permission anymore," Jongin agrees, smiling when he takes a whiff of the woody smell of books all around him. He's missed this so much. "I feel bad for not purchasing anything off Jungsoo-hyung, though, since that's his sole source of income." 

"But he doesn't let you," Yixing adds on as he marvels at the amount of books lining the shelves, clearly picking up on the way Jongin's sentence had trailed off. He pauses once, twice when he catches something interesting, but Yixing never plucks them off the shelf, merely running his slender fingers down the spine of the books in reverence before moving along. Jongin wonders if he loves reading, too. Yixing never talks much about himself unless prompted, and even then, he doesn't give elaborate answers. 

Sometimes, Jongin wonders if Yixing's hiding something from them. There seems to be an entirely different world concealed in his eyes, whenever Jongin finds him staring into the distance. It's not his position to pry, though, so he doesn't. But it still doesn't stop the curiosity from crawling into his consciousness.

"No," Jongin breathes when he remembers Yixing is still waiting for an answer. They turn into the last aisle of the store, and Jongin begins scanning the spines of the books to locate what they're there for. "He doesn't. He knows the situation at the orphanage, and wouldn't allow me to spend a single Won here. I'm grateful, though. Ah-hah! Here it is." 

Yixing perks in attention when Jongin pulls a rather thick copy off the shelf, following him like an obedient puppy to the sole table occupying a corner of Jungsoo's bookshop. It lands on the surface of the table with a dull thud, and Jongin winces, apologising to no one in particular. He doesn't like handling these books roughly, thinking of each copy as a precious entity in its own right. 

Together, they scan through the first chapter of the book, which details on the history surrounding each of the twelve ancient powers, because it's what Yixing's most curious about. _Mind reading, spatial manipulation, flight, fire, water, ice, earth, wind, light, time manipulation, healing, and lightning are the ancient powers which are actually known by mankind_ , the writing on the yellowing pages reads, _each powerful on its own, but their effects are amplified a thousand times when they come together as one_. Not much else is said about the powers, apart from the inscription detailing that the wielders of fire and flight are rumoured to take on the form of a phoenix and a dragon respectively.

Again, Jongin shudders when he remembers his dream. He doesn't quite recall reading this part of the mythology when he was younger, but Jongin supposes his memory of the tale has degraded quite a bit with the passage of time, kept alive only by constantly retelling it to the children at the orphanage. Even then, he's modified bits and pieces of the story; the children needn't know that the world they live in now only came about because of the rumoured disagreement these ancient power wielders had with each other. He wants them to have something good to dream about, to divert their attention from the bleakness of living in this era where everyone's struggling just to get by.

The world Jongin had lived in and the world that Jongin has been living in for the past ten years is vastly different, after all. 

"Would you believe me, if I told you this isn't entirely true?" Yixing asks just then, thoughtful as he continues to scan through the lines written on paper, already moving onto the next chapter. "And if I told you that the world _did_ indeed end because of their disagreement? That these powers are hereditary?" 

Jongin stares at him questioningly. "What do you mean?" 

"Exactly what I said," Yixing turns to smile briefly at him, as though deliberately ignoring Jongin's confused state. "They broke up into two factions back then, and fought against each other, even though there was another threat lurking in the shadows. In the end, they destroyed each other, and brought the rest of the world down with them." 

Jongin glances at the book on the table—there are more descriptions about the supposed history belying the ancient power wielders, which Jongin had thought to be mere tall tales—then back at Yixing. "How do you know it's true, Yixing? No one has ever seen them before, and those who _have_ are all supposedly dead by now." 

"It still doesn't mean they don't exist," Yixing responds calmly, seemingly unaffected by Jongin's constant questioning of his version of the truth. "I've talked to someone who has witnessed these ancient power wielders with their own eyes before. He could tell you every single detail surrounding their existence."

"And where exactly is that person now?" Jongin raises an eyebrow at Yixing, whom merely smiles and snaps the book shut before tucking it in the crook of his arm. There is nothing but pure curiosity in Jongin's words, and Yixing doesn't seem too offended by it. For that, Jongin is glad. 

"That's a secret, and it's not my place to tell. One day, though, you'll know all you have to about it," Yixing replies, closing himself off again as he heads towards the checkout counter with the book still in hand. Jongin goes wide-eyed when Yixing digs up the exact change for the book, and places it on the counter before an equally shocked Jungsoo. It doesn't come cheap, considering how thick it is, but once Jongin remembers how Yixing had travelled all the way from Shin-Beijing to Korea, he is no longer surprised that Yixing can afford to purchase the book. 

At the end of the day, Jongin returns to the orphanage with more questions than answers—Yixing's the only one who can answer them, but Jongin surmises that he _won't_. He's more confused than ever, but it's not as though he can force Yixing to divulge anything else, either. 

His first impression of Yixing still remains, however: the man's existence is as mysterious as the truth belying the apocalypse.

 

♠︎

 

The weird dreams do not stop plaguing Jongin's nights. They're escalating by the day, even, and Jongin really can't make sense of _anything_ he's seeing in them.

They play out in a similar manner for the first few nights. Jongin would see chaos unfolding all around him, followed by the appearance of the dragon—it's always, _always_ the same one, with jet black scales and a long snout, fangs menacing in the light—and the phoenix with feathers of golden and red. And then he'd see his father, zipping across the land in short distances while yelling something unintelligible, before Jongin would find himself running after his father, pleading with him to stay out of harm's way. 

It always ends the same way too—abrupt, with Jongin screaming himself hoarse when the fireball breathed out by the dragon hits the ground close to him, its embers consuming everything within a hundred-metre radius and leaving a charred hole on the ground. Now that Jongin thinks about it, the charred crater resembles the one he's seen in the middle of the Detrita. There were talks about how a comet might have unfortunately strayed too far into Earth's path and eventually destroyed half of it, but right now, Jongin isn't too sure about that story anymore. As much as he doesn't think that the ancient power wielders actually existed, the way Yixing had defended his views with such vehemence makes Jongin's opinions sway. 

And that's where his nightmares take a weirder turn, several nights after his visit to Jungsoo's bookstore with Yixing. 

The dream unfolds in almost the exact same way, though instead of the usual faces he sees—all unfamiliar, save for his father's—he comes face to face with none other than _Yixing_. 

He's bent over a gravely injured individual in Jongin's dream, a warm orange glow emitting from the tips of Yixing's fingers and enveloping the other man. Yixing himself is oblivious to the chaos that's going on around him, eyebrows knitted in deep concentration as he focuses on the injured man in his lap. When Jongin walks closer to the pair, he's surprised to find that the orange glow is seeping into the man's wounds, weaving them seamlessly shut and leaving nothing but a faint scar behind. 

What on earth—

He's not allowed to continue on that thought, though, when a sudden jet of ice lands too close to his left foot for comfort, jolting Jongin out of his entranced state of watching Yixing patching up the injured man. Jongin is left even more confused when he looks up, and finds himself at least ten feet away from Yixing, watching as another shorter man joins Yixing and glares in Jongin's direction, as though Jongin is _really_ there in flesh. 

The thing is, Jongin remembers jumping away from the ice bolt which has now melted against the soil, but only consciously taking a step further. He doesn't understand how he's managed to get so far away from the trio, has absolutely no recollection of running away, though Jongin firmly reminds himself this: it's only a dream. It's not real. _It's not real_.

And then the imageries of his dream shift again, when the newcomer raises a hand to shoot more deadly shards of ice at him. Jongin finds himself in the middle of town, the sight familiar enough to him that it _should_ raise the warning bells in him, from the sheer amount of times he's been experiencing this in the last few weeks, but somehow, the thought doesn't occur to him until it's much too late. 

_Too late_ means having himself scorched to the ground all over again, the fireball ending his dreams abruptly and pushing him back to reality. There's a telltale soreness running along the column of his throat, making Jongin realise he must've screamed aloud again, and he struggles to keep his laboured breaths down to a bare minimum, listening intently for movement outside his door. He feels guilty for always disturbing Yixing in the middle of the night because of his nightmares, which Jongin is sure happens more often than not. Yixing has never failed to show up at Jongin's doorstep, concern etched on his features whenever Jongin opens the door, and it's getting increasingly difficult to reassure Yixing that he's completely fine, when his sleep is disturbed on the daily. 

Tonight, though, no one knocks on the wooden frame of Jongin's door, nothing but silence filling the night, punctuated only by Jongin's deep intake of breaths. It makes Jongin curl up into himself, fingers digging into the flesh of his arms and leaving crescent imprints on clammy skin, and he feels _hollow_ , already much too used to Yixing's calming presence night after night. He knows he shouldn't feel this way, not when Yixing has finally managed to sleep through Jongin's yelling episodes for once, but still he doesn't stop wishing for Yixing's voice to speak up at his door.

He feels conflicted, and it's with such recurrent thoughts that Jongin finally falls into a fitful sleep.

♠︎

Yixing is in the midst of giving Jongin's shoulders a thorough massage at the end of a long day, reassuring Jongin that his massages are well sought after back in his hometown, because Yixing never fails to make the receiver feel completely relaxed after. Jongin has been through a lot of stress for the last week or so, both from his responsibilities at the orphanage and the nightly interruption of his sleep, and had agreed with much reluctance.

It turns out Yixing wasn't lying at all. 

Jongin doesn't know what was on his mind when he did it, but he tells Yixing of his dream after a long lapse of silence, of him seeing Yixing as the one who wields the ancient power of healing. 

For a moment, Yixing appears serious as he examines Jongin's expressions for any signs that he might be pulling Yixing's leg, his hands pausing in their actions, but it's gone as soon as Jongin picks up on it. 

Instead, Yixing smiles and pats the top of Jongin's head—almost affectionately—even though he's a little shorter than Jongin is. The crowfeet at the corners of Yixing's eyes are prominent, and Jongin can't help but stare. 

"Don't be silly, your imagination is taking you a little too far," Yixing says, but the amused sparkle in Yixing's eyes throws Jongin into yet another tumultuous state of mind. Something tells Jongin that he wasn't imagining things at all, but he can't put a finger on the exact reason why. 

The warmth of Yixing's touch lingers, soft and gentle.

 

♠︎

 

The oddities don't end with his dreams. 

It happens on a rare sunny day towards the end of autumn, when Jongin and Yixing are out playing with the children in their neighbourhood park. The park itself is in a rather dilapidated state, its equipments poorly maintained due to the lack of funds, and no one apart from the children at the orphanage ever plays there these days. The space is wide enough to accommodate a large number of children though, and it's one of the reasons why Jongin still brings them there, to let them run free and have their vivid imagination dictate the games they play. 

Usually, only one helper would bring the children to the park at any one time, but Mirae had allowed Yixing to join them that day, satisfied with his efficiency at completing his tasks at the orphanage. Jongin more than welcomes the company, considering how he's still exhausted from his sleep debt that seems to accumulate by the day. Having someone to talk to would keep him from dozing off on his task, and even if he _does_ accidentally succumb to the lure of a brief shuteye, at least Yixing's there to keep watch on the children. 

They're in the middle of an interesting conversation about Yixing's hometown—it's the first time Yixing has ever willingly offered this much information about himself and his past before coming to Shin-Seoul—when a pained shriek catches their attention. Jongin is already on his feet before his brain even manages to catch up, running towards tiny Hanbyeol who's currently seated on the dusty ground bawling her eyes out. 

The children who have been crowding around her in concern immediately disperse when Jongin approaches them, though they linger close enough, huddled together as they regard their friend with fear and worry written on their innocent faces. Blood drains from Jongin's face when he sees the large wound on Hanbyeol's knee, as well as several more abrasions on her shin and small hands, evidently having scraped herself on the sandy ground. Mirae is going to _kill_ him for not taking better care of the kids. 

"I—I'm sorry, Jongin hyung. It's my fault," Jongseob comes up to him and tugs on the sleeve of Jongin's shirt while Jongin's still assessing the extent of Hanbyeol's injuries, his own eyes watery from unshed tears. "I pushed Byeollie by accident. Please, don't be angry."

Jongin can only sigh and ruffle Jongseob's hair, knowing how rough children can get when they're much too excited while playing. He also knows Jongseob has one of the purest hearts around, and he wouldn't have wanted this to happen to his friends. "Don't worry about it, Jongseob. I'll deal with it," he reassures them, though in actuality, Jongin has no clue about what he should be doing. First aid kits, along with proper healthcare are expensive, and would create a huge dent out of the orphanage's finances. The people's pleas to the government to cut down the cost of healthcare is, of course, ignored like the rest of their basic needs. They can only try their level best to not get injured, or to fall ill. 

His anxiety is amplified by Hanbyeol's continuous crying despite his efforts at calming her down. When coupled with his recent dire lack of sleep, Jongin's irritation rises at an alarming speed—

—until someone places a hand on his shoulder, and Jongin feels the irritation seep out of him, leaving behind a sense of extraordinary calmness. He cranes his neck, only to find Yixing smiling down at him. 

"Let me handle this, Jongin. You're not in the proper state of mind to do anything right now," Yixing tells him. Normally, Jongin would protest against the suggestion, because the children are supposed to be _his_ responsibility, considering the fact that Yixing's only tagging along for the lack of something to do, but he finds himself losing the will to argue with Yixing. The hand on his shoulder is clouding his thoughts, and he's not sure if it's a good thing. He decides not to think about it, though. 

Instead, Jongin gratefully accepts Yixing's helping hand, pulling himself to stand with relative ease. He watches closely as Yixing squats down to take Jongin's place, gentle smile never faltering as he pats Hanbyeol's head affectionately. Her loud cries immediately die down to mere sobs, eyes red as she looks up at Yixing. Jongin really wonders how he manages to have such a calming effect on everyone around him. He can't deny that he's rather envious. 

"Come on, Byeollie. Let's go get you cleaned up, alright?" 

Hanbyeol doesn't say anything, only nods and wraps her arms around Yixing's neck when he offers to carry her. The sight warms Jongin's heart, though he's taken aback when Yixing turns to flash him a reassuring smile, and he flushes red at being caught staring. 

Thankfully, Yixing doesn't tease him like he usually does when Jongin is flustered. Instead, he carries Hanbyeol off the playing field towards the edge of the park where Jongin knows a working tap can be found, only because of the sheer amount of times he's had to herd the rowdy children up to clean themselves up before they head back to the orphanage. Jongin only tears his gaze away from Yixing and Hanbyeol when Jongseob tugs on his fingers to catch his attention, and his heart positively breaks when he sees the guilt in Jongseob's usually energetic eyes. 

Smiling, Jongin pats him on the head once again. "It's an accident, I know. I won't reprimand you for that, Jongseob," he reassures the eight-year-old, who visibly relaxes at Jongin's words. "But make sure you apologise to Hanbyeol when she gets back, okay?" 

He's in the midst of giving the rest of the children a talk on playground safety when someone suddenly barrels into him, almost knocking him off his feet. Jongin _would_ have gotten mad, if he hadn't heard Hanbyeol giggling uncontrollably in his ears, and Jongin's immediately awash with relief to find that she's back to her usual mood. Nevertheless, Jongin's astonished to find that the abrasion wounds on Hanbyeol's hands and knee are gone when she excitedly shows him her limbs, telling Jongin that it no longer hurts. 

Jongin is completely baffled. There is absolutely _no way_ her wounds could have healed so quickly.

"What happened to your injuries?" He asks, confused. He's sure Yixing had said he was going to get Hanbyeol cleaned up, but _this_ is beyond ridiculous. It escapes his comprehension. 

"I can't tell you!" The girl giggles in response, sharing a look with Yixing who smiles back at her. "Xing oppa says that it's a biiiiiiiiig secret!" 

He wishes he could wipe the stupid grin off Yixing's face, when he tries to get the answer out of Yixing instead. Yixing is so not helpful. 

"Would you believe me if I told you my family has a traditional remedy which promotes rapid wound healing?" Yixing finally offers after much cajoling on Jongin's part, batting his eyelashes as he tries to sell his story. Jongin isn't buying it. 

"If you do, then why don't you sell it to the scientists? I'm sure you will be paid handsomely for it," Jongin huffs, because it's true. In a time and age where it's extremely easy to catch a debilitating illness off the streets—sanitation is poor; hygiene even more so—Jongin is sure anyone with the money at hand would pay for Yixing's miraculous instant cure. If Yixing sold it to the scientists for the formulation to be mass produced, he'd hit the metaphorical jackpot, and would no longer have to work at the orphanage to support himself. In fact, he'd even be propelled to the top caste of society, where the richest of the country mingle. 

Then again, Jongin suspects that money isn't really on Yixing's agenda. He doesn't seem very concerned with the lowly wages Mirae is offering him, nor does he have any reservations in spending his amassed fortune on something as non-essential as books. 

Of course, his suspicion is confirmed when Yixing merely says, "Not everything has to be shared with the world, Jongin. People will only tend to misuse it, when they're all driven by guilt and desperation and greed."

He refuses to answer any and all of Jongin's questions thereafter, and Jongin only grows even more confused by the day. Nothing quite makes sense anymore.

 

♠︎

 

To Jongin, Yixing's existence is like a puzzle that is extremely difficult to solve. Three months have come and gone since his arrival at the orphanage, and Jongin is _still_ nowhere near familiar enough with Yixing's background. 

Yixing is so horribly secretive that it frustrates Jongin. He'd talk just a tiny bit about himself whenever Jongin asks, enough to feed Jongin with some new information about himself, yet not nearly enough to satiate Jongin's overwhelming curiosity. It's never like this with the rest of the helpers at the orphanage—Seongwoo, Seungwan, and Joohyun are all more than eager to share their past with Jongin and Mirae, having absolutely nothing to hide. It's not as though Jongin is deliberately concealing his past from the others, either; it's just that no one has bothered enough to ask. He doesn't think it's important enough to warrant public knowledge, and Mirae knows everything abut Jongin there is to know, anyway. 

To be fair, Jongin can't really demand for Yixing to divulge his entire life's story, when he hasn't done the same, but something about Yixing's mannerisms makes Jongin think that he's only scraping the surface.

In other words, Yixing is a mystery.

It definitely doesn't help quell Jongin's curiosity at all, when Jongin tails Yixing out one day and finds him ducking into a secluded alley to talk to a hooded person hidden in the shadows. He _knows_ this isn't right, that he's violating Yixing's privacy and his right to leave the orphanage's premises as he pleases. But when Jongin had noticed Yixing acting suspiciously just before he had stepped out of the orphanage that afternoon, his first instinct is to follow after Yixing. 

Of course, he can't think of a good reason why Yixing would possibly mean any harm to the orphanage, or to Mirae, but Jongin is still filled with unease. His paranoid mind keeps reminding him that he knows next to nothing about Yixing, and that he should keep his guard up. _In case_. 

You can never be too trusting of anyone these days. 

Nevertheless, Jongin finds that he can't get close enough to the pair without alerting them of his presence, so he opts to hide around the corner at the mouth of the alley. He can only hope that the echo provided by the enclosed space would carry enough of the conversation through the wind to him. 

Unfortunately for Jongin, they're conversing in hushed voices even though they're essentially alone in the alley, much too soft for Jongin to pick out anything useful. He does catch the words _dreaming a lot_ and _he's about to awaken_ in between, but it's difficult for him to place their conversation on a topic he's actually familiar with. 

"Someone's listening," the hooded man says sharply just then, which makes Jongin's heart skip a beat out of guilt. He manages to duck out of sight in the nick of time, just as Yixing swerves around sharply to regard the entrance to the alleyway, and Jongin's feet carry him as quickly as they can back to the orphanage, before Yixing even realises he's there. 

Jongin's pulse is still pounding in his ears even as he settles back into his routine at the orphanage, hoping fervently that he hadn't been caught eavesdropping. His mind races as it reminds him of the events which had unfolded earlier, and then stops abruptly when he realises something he hadn't noticed before.

Both Yixing and the hooded man had been conversing in rapid-fire Shin-Beijing dialect. Jongin _doesn't_ speak it at all—or so he thought.

So how was he able to understand the bits and pieces of their conversation which he had been able to pick up again?

 

♠︎

 

His footsteps are quick and heavy, snow crunching and melting beneath his boots as Jongin walks speedily through the Detrita. His warm breaths turn into condensation in the cold air, and his lungs _burn_ from the exertion, but Jongin can't really be bothered to keep himself concealed at this point of time, not when the veil of the night has descended upon the Detrita. It's only bound to get even darker after this, and Jongin really can't afford to be as careful as he usually is.

Even when his gut feelings keep telling him something wasn't quite right, Jongin decidedly ignores it, thinking that he must be mentally exhausted from his chronic lack of sleep. As things are, he has already screwed his schedule up. He was running late from an errand he had to settle at Goyang that afternoon, and as a result, he'd lost track of time, forgetting that the sun would set by mid-afternoon during the winter months. Mirae would probably reprimand him the moment he arrives at the orphanage for worrying her, though Jongin thinks it would be worth it. His present for Mirae's upcoming birthday is sitting innocently at the bottom of his backpack, hidden by the groceries he had to grab for the week.

He hopes Mirae would like it. He's been saving for her gift for months. 

Jongin's train of thoughts is interrupted when a loud sound comes from his left just then, his head snapping in that direction to see what was going on. Unfortunately, he finds nothing but a never-ending stretch of darkness ahead of him, the pale moonlight much too dim to actually illuminate anything on the ground. The fear spikes in him when his mind reminds him of the tall tale he's heard, of the Detrita being haunted by the ghosts of those who had perished in the apocalypse, and his skin is promptly covered in goosebumps, the chill settling deep in his bones despite Jongin being covered in several thick layers of clothing for the cold weather. It makes Jongin walk even faster—as fast as he can without slipping on the frosted ground, anyway—muttering a prayer under his breath as he goes, eyes fixated on the path beneath his feet rather than on his surroundings. 

The sounds around him only grow louder and more frequent as Jongin continues on his journey, and he thinks he might've heard someone's shrill laughter being carried through the wind. He wants to switch on his torchlight, but doesn't, worried that it might alert the thugs lurking in the Detrita of his exact location. He really hopes it's only his hyperactive imagination playing tricks on him, because he doesn't know how to deal with gangsters who can actually deal him physical harm. Jongin has never properly learned the art of self-defence, and he doesn't have any object useful enough to protect himself, either.

Unfortunately, Jongin's prayers are not heard by whatever higher being there is out there, and he soon finds himself surrounded by a group of burly-looking men, the sound of them cracking their knuckles filling the air. Even in the dark, he can see the scars littering their exposed skin, and their rotting teeth are bared when they snicker at him. Jongin takes a tentative step back, no matter how futile his action is, and tightens his grip on the straps of his backpack.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The largest man of the group asks, leering at Jongin. Jongin flinches when his vision is assaulted by the light coming from the man's torch, and he takes yet another step back into the dark, arms coming up to shield his eyes from the unwelcome brightness. "Looks like we have a pretty thing to entertain us t'night. Are ya lost, little lamb?" 

Jongin has half the mind to spit at the man for his disgusting comment, but thought better of his actions—they're not acting aggressively towards him at the moment, and he just might be able to talk his way out of trouble, even if the chances are actually really slim. He'd hate to return home with his body covered in injuries—or, in the worst case scenario, Jongin might not be able to return home at all. So instead, he raises a hand in a placating gesture, ignoring the way they snigger even more at him. "Look, I'm sorry for disturbing your peace, but I swear I was just passing through. Let me go; I don't intend to cause any trouble." 

"D'ya hear him, boss? He wants to _pass through_ our turf!" Another one of the men says, and his words trigger yet another round of mocking laughter from his group of friends. 

"We only offer favours in exchange for somethin' else, kid. What _can_ ya offer us?" The first man asks, eyeing Jongin from head to toe. Jongin's skin crawls at the scrutiny, feeling as though he's standing bare naked in front of them. From the way they're leering at him, it's probably not too far from the truth; they're probably undressing him with their eyes at this very moment. He feels nauseated by the mere thought of it. 

Jongin mentally runs through the contents of his bag, and finds that he can't give anything up in exchange for his free passage through the Detrita. Each grocery item is equally as important as the next; losing any one of them would render the children hungry for days on end. Jongin can't possibly be that selfish to let everyone else suffer just because he wanted to be safe.

Besides, there's no saying if the thugs would stick to their words and let Jongin leave without further delay even if he _did_ surrender something, so he does the next thing he can think of: run. 

He's been surveying the situation for a good while, and he realises there is a chance he could outrun the entire gang of thugs. Jongin is smaller in size, and definitely more agile on his feet, even while carrying a backpack filled with items. The moment he sees an opening to his right, Jongin makes a mad dash for it, narrowly escaping the outstretched hand of the man closest to him. His heart pounds wildly against his ribcage as he continues to run, the adrenaline flooding his veins making him feel much braver than usual, and Jongin whips out his torchlight to illuminate his way, already beyond caring that he's giving away his location. The thugs are still hot on his heels, cursing loudly as they try to catch up to him, and exhilarated laughter bubbles out of Jongin's throat despite the dangerous situation he's currently in. 

It's been a long while since he's had this much excitement in his life. 

The sound of heavy footsteps stomping against packed earth soon fades ten minutes into the chase, leaving only Jongin's own. It's only then that Jongin dares to slow down a little, wincing at the cramping pain radiating from his calves, his chest and lungs still burning from the exertion. Jongin wipes the sweat out of his eyes and chances a look over his shoulder, trying to ascertain if they're anywhere close to catching up to him once again.

Nevertheless, Jongin soon learns that it's a great mistake to not keep his eyes on the path ahead of him, when he collides with something hard. The impact sends him sprawling backwards onto the dusty ground, scraping his palms raw in the process. He doesn't think anything could compare to the fear that overwhelms him moments later, though, when he raises his gaze and finds one of the thugs from before staring down at him. The amusement is completely gone from the man's expression, replaced by pure lividness. 

"Ya think ya can outsmart us when ya on our turf, huh kid?" He snarls at Jongin, squatting down to regard him closely. That's when the rest of his gang joins them, triumphant smirks on their faces at the sight of Jongin being cornered. It almost feels as though they're the hunters and he's the prey. 

Jongin wants to pull himself up from the ground and make a run for it, but his legs refuse to cooperate with him. He curses inwardly when he realises he must have overdone it with the running, and once the momentum is lost, his lower limbs decided to shut down completely on him. Fuck. 

The man seems to have sensed Jongin's fear spiking in the air, because his grin turns feral as he makes a grab for the front of Jongin's shirt. Jongin tries to inch backwards, but the man's grip on his clothes is strong, effectively pinning him in place. Up close, Jongin can see the thick layer of grime and soot covering the man's skin, and his breath smells _rotten_. It takes a monumental effort for Jongin to not gag and throw up in the man's face from the stench; he can't imagine how angry the man would get, and he'd be lucky if he could even get out of the Detrita alive. 

The world may be a mess right now, but Jongin has absolutely no intention to die young. 

Then again, his silence only serves to piss the man off even more, and he shakes Jongin violently to make his anger known. "Did ya decide to be mute now? Ya seemed to have plenty to say earlier!"

"Please—" Jongin forcefully chokes out, trying hard to keep his fears at bay. "Let me go. I really have nothing to offer you."

The man barks out a laugh, and Jongin has to physically stop himself from squirming when the man grips his chin with grimy fingers. He keeps his head stubbornly upturned even when the man attempts to turn his face this way and that, presumably to take a better look of Jongin's features. "Nonsense, ya can just offer ya body and we'll call it a deal!"

Jongin isn't even given the opportunity to process his words. The man is already yanking him forward before Jongin realises what's going on, lips sealed disgustingly over the strip of exposed skin above Jongin's collar. Jongin yells—in shock, or in fear, he doesn't really know—and kicks out at the man who's assaulting him, but his efforts are for naught when the man merely laughs and traps Jongin's flailing legs beneath his weight. Jongin can feel the hot tears pricking at his eyes, the desperation and hopelessness rushing forth to wrap him in their suffocating embrace. He's never felt this helpless since the day he had lost his parents to the apocalypse, but at least back then, Mirae was there with him, helping him find a brand new purpose in life and picking up the pieces together.

Right now, however, Jongin is all alone, and there's nothing more frightening that that.

But Jongin doesn't stop praying, _hoping_ desperately to get out of there as soon as possible—and, by the work of a miracle, safely. The despair is at its height when the thug starts unbuttoning Jongin's coat and sneaking a hand beneath his thin shirt to feel the skin there, a severe, disgusting violation of Jongin's body. By then, Jongin's voice is all hoarse from shouting at the man to stop, and he's lost all will to fight back, the energy seeping out of him like smoke tendrils in the air. He thinks he might even be able to see it happening with his own eyes, even if he knows it's only a part of his silly imagination, and he tries to conjure the image of the orphanage in his mind, wondering if he'll ever survive the night with his dignity intact to return to the only place he could call home. Yixing's smile is warm and encouraging, if not a little surprising, and Jongin clings to the image like a lifeline. 

Just as the man starts on the belt holding Jongin's pants together, however, he feels as though he's being sucked backwards into a void, with a force so strong that it threatens to clamp down on his throat and cut off his supply of air. The alarmed expression of the thug is the last thing Jongin sees, before he's plunged into total darkness, nothing but complete silence enveloping him. 

Then the pressure around his neck eases almost abruptly, the air slamming back into his lungs hard, letting Jongin regain his hold on reality once he can finally breathe again. And breathe Jongin does, gasping and choking on fresh air as though he had very nearly drowned in a murky pool of water several moments ago, fingers clutching at the collar of his shirt. He's still seeing stars from the lack of oxygen to his brain, head spinning, but it gets better as time passes him by. At least there's no one actively trying to strip him of his clo—

Wait. 

He forces himself to concentrate, taking in his surroundings, only to realise that he's _not_ in the Detrita. In fact, he's nowhere near it. Instead, Jongin finds himself seated on the cold stone walkway right _in front_ of the orphanage, thugs nowhere in sight. Jongin rubs his eyes in confusion, wondering if his senses are playing tricks on him. There's no way he could have made it all the way back here without some sort of magic being involved, and he definitely doesn't have that sort of ability to teleport himself back to Shin-Seoul, either. 

"Jongin?" A familiar voice calls out just then, shocking Jongin out of his trance-like state. Yixing's concerned face suddenly invades his space, and Jongin scoots backwards in surprise. Surely he hadn't seen Jongin—? 

"Jongin, what are you doing sitting on the ground?" Yixing asks again, patting Jongin's cheek to gain his attention. He retracts his hand almost immediately. "God, you're freezing! Come on, we need to get you inside!" 

Numbed from his traumatic experience, Jongin merely nods and lets Yixing bodily haul him up from the ground; his legs are much too weak and shaky for Jongin to actually walk on his own. Jongin doesn't actually realise how late it already is, until he catches sight of the time on the clock perched on the side table in the main hall. It's almost midnight, and Jongin was supposed to have been home five _hours_ ago. Vaguely, he wonders if Yixing had been waiting out in the cold for him to return; it doesn't explain his presence outside the orphanage otherwise, when Yixing could have turned in for the day after he was done with his chores.

Mirae comes out to fuss over Jongin when she hears them coming in, reprimanding him—quietly, because the rest of the children are asleep, and Mirae's not much of a fan of yelling at others if she could help it—for worrying her unnecessarily. Jongin can only muster a weak apology as he nurses the bowl of hot broth Mirae had provided him with, because he's completely drained from the harrowing experience at the Detrita. He leaves the incident out of his explanation, opting instead to lie to Mirae that he'd taken a wrong turn and lost his way in the dark. Yixing silently watches the exchange from the sidelines, only to obediently bring Jongin back to his room once Jongin was done with his dinner. 

If Yixing had witnessed Jongin materialising before the orphanage out of nowhere, he doesn't bring it up at all. He merely bids Jongin a good night, and urges Jongin to get some sleep the soonest he's able to do so, but not before tending to the wounds on Jongin's hands and wrapping them up in clean bandages. 

Jongin's glad; he isn't sure if he'll be able to answer the questions Yixing might potentially throw at him, not when he doesn't even know what had happened to begin with. It almost feels as though a chunk of his memories had been ripped away from him, between getting violated by the thug at the Detrita and finding himself seated on the ice cold ground in front of the orphanage, and it's a frightening thought. 

That night, Jongin curls up into himself as he drifts into a fitful sleep.

 

♠︎

 

Jongin jolts awake at the loud sound of something crashing to the ground, followed by the terrified screams of panicked children. 

_Children_.

It takes time for his sleep-addled brain to actually process the information, but he jumps right out of bed once he does, not caring that he had just fallen asleep after a long, mentally-draining day. The muscles in his body are screaming in protest as he throws on a thick coat around himself, trying to insulate his pyjama-clad body from the winter cold, and Jongin ignores the discomfort of the cold floorboard against his bare feet, already running out of the door and down the hallway to where the children's rooms are. 

Nightmares are a norm for the children, Jongin knows, but his gut feelings are telling him that something wasn't right. There shouldn't be a reason why so many children would be screaming at the exact same time; they never usually do. Jongin doesn't even stop to wake Yixing up on his way. It's almost impossible to sleep through the commotion, and Yixing has proved himself to be a light sleeper on more than one occasion, when Jongin had been experiencing his nightmares on a daily basis. 

Nevertheless, caution floods his being when he hears unfamiliar voices coming from the other end of the hall. He immediately slows his pace down, tiptoeing towards a hidden corner to survey the situation instead of barging right in. The blood is pounding against his ear, heart in his throat when Jongin's mind starts feeding him improbable scenarios of the thugs actually tailing him all the way from Detrita to the orphanage, but Jongin reminds himself to stay calm no matter what. 

He's shocked beyond belief when he finally peeks into the hallway where the children's rooms are, only to find Mirae and the other three helpers crouched before the children, arms spread open as they protect the children from the group of masked men who have them surrounded. Jongin's knees tremble at the sight of the guns in these masked men's hands, though the anger flares within him soon after—how _dare_ they raise their weapons at a group of harmless, defenceless people? 

"This is not everyone who resides here, am I right? Who else are you hiding?" One of the masked men speaks up, eyes flickering between the tablet in his hand and Mirae. Jongin bites on his bottom lip to stop himself from talking, though he has no doubt that these men must be associated with the government, somehow—or they have access to the thriving black market. Ordinary thugs aren't rich enough to afford such advanced equipments at this time and age, nor do they have the need for them. 

Once again, however, Jongin's reminded of the reason why he respects Yoon Mirae a great deal, and it's not because she had single-handedly raised him up even though they weren't related by blood. 

Mirae's expression is calm, her posture defiant as she glances up at the group of men. She would always put everyone else above herself, even if it means getting herself into potentially dangerous situations. "This _is_ everyone. I have no idea why you are assuming otherwise," she says, not even flinching when the person closest to her fits the nozzle of his rifle beneath her chin to tilt her gaze further up. There's a whimper of fear coming from one of the children—Jongin thinks it might have been Hanbyeol, judging by the way she's clutching onto the material of Mirae's sleepwear—but Joohyun is quick to soothe her down with quiet words, pulling her away from Mirae so that she wouldn't get hurt.

"Stubborn, aren't you? I have given you enough chances. Do you think we didn't come equipped?" The man, whom Jongin presumes is the leader of the group, scoffs at Mirae's statement. He then turns towards his subordinate, nodding once in a quiet order, before the other man pulls out a slim black device from the pocket of his pants. 

Jongin's heart sinks the moment he recognises the object, having seen it on multiple occasions while traversing the checkpoint leading into and out of Shin-Seoul. By now, there is absolutely no doubt that these men are from the government, and the device in their possession functions as a tracker to locate the owner of the electronic chips embedded under their skin. Jongin _knows_ this, because he's gone through enough security checks to last him a lifetime. 

He doesn't even get the opportunity to escape—not that he _wants_ to, not with Mirae and the only people he has ever cared about are trapped here with a group of armed personnel—when the device bleeps jarringly in the dead of the night. Mirae looks up at the same time that the officer turns in the direction where Jongin is currently hidden, the device no doubt having disclosed his exact location. There is fear in her eyes, almost as though she knew they were here for Jongin, and she opens her mouth to scream, "Jongin, run!" 

His legs are already moving before his brain can fully process what was going on, his feet slipping against the cold wooden flooring as he breaks into a sprint. It's only by extreme luck that Jongin manages to maintain his balance by gripping onto the wooden frame of the nearest door, using it to propel him forward when he kicks off against the ground to reinitiate his momentum. It takes a huge effort to filter out the terrified screams of the children; this is the last thing he ever wanted them to witness. The world of the adults is as ugly as it gets after the apocalypse, and they're much too young to be exposed to such atrocities. 

As ridiculous as it might sound, even to his own ears, Jongin starts believing that the group of masked men are indeed looking for him. There is absolutely no other reason why they'd barge into the orphanage, forcefully raking through every single room in the house only to leave the rest of the occupants unharmed at the end of it, but would actively use their tracking device to tack down Jongin's exact location even when Mirae had told them no one else was in the house. They seem adamant at capturing him, if the way the officers are chasing him down is anything to go by. 

The reason behind their motives is unfathomable, though. Why would the government pay particular attention to someone like Jongin, anyway? He was sure he didn't violate the law—or _did_ he? Even if he did, was it really necessary to hunt him down with their weapons drawn?

Regardless, Jongin isn't sticking around to find out. He dashes through the orphanage as quickly as his feet could carry him, making full use of the many interconnecting rooms in order to get to the basement. There is an exit tunnel leading out of the basement, dug up by Jongin and another occupant called Taemin in the past under Mirae's request— _in case we have to get out during an emergency and can't use the main door_ , Mirae had said, and Jongin marvels at her ability to predict the future. He doubts anyone else would have known about it. It's his only hope now, and he really needs to get there before the armed men manage to catch up to him. 

Unfortunately for Jongin, however, these men are a lot more well-trained than the thugs who had chased him down at the Detrita mere hours ago. Despite Jongin knowing the layout of the orphanage like the back of his hand, they're a lot more agile than he is in covering all the possible exits, and Jongin finds himself barrelling painfully into the body of a particularly well-built man the moment he throws the last door open. He's thrown backwards onto the ground from the impact, scraping his already-injured palms further, causing him to hiss in pain. Almost immediately, two pairs of hands are looped around Jongin's arms, hauling him into a standing position before he can even get a grip on the situation.

"Did you think you could run from us?" The man Jongin had crashed into asks, and there's cynicism lacing his words. Jongin flinches when the cold metal tip of the rifle comes into contact with his skin. He grits his teeth, but says nothing else, knowing it could possibly get him into even more trouble than he's already in. Besides, further resistance seems to be futile, with the iron grip they have on him. 

It doesn't seem to stop the man from punching Jongin right across the face, though, probably as payback for the amount of trouble Jongin had put them through. The metallic taste of blood fills Jongin's mouth almost promptly, and he spits it out in anger, then keeps his mouth glued shut right after. He tries to charge at the man, but it's impossible to get anywhere near him, so he gives up and hangs like a limp doll between the other two officers still holding onto him. 

Seemingly satisfied with Jongin's silence, the man barks out a laugh and turns to his colleagues. "Take him out of here." 

For the second time in a day, Jongin is made to feel completely helpless as the group of armed men dragged him out of the orphanage. The panic doesn't really hit him until he catches Mirae's terrified eyes on the way, and his heart clenches when he hears the despair in her voice when she calls out for him. 

"Let him go!" She practically shrieks, ignoring the way Seongwoo, Joohyun, and Seungwan are holding her back. There are still several men keeping watch over the rest of the occupants of the orphanage, rifles held at the ready; there's no saying if they would hurt her if they got irritated. Still, Yoon Mirae isn't one to bow down to authorities, especially when the people she holds dear are being threatened. It shows this time, when she breaks free from the group in order to get to where Jongin is. "Let him go!" Mirae yells again, voice cracking from fury. "What is his crime?! He's just a harmless boy!" 

The tips of Jongin's fingers go cold when the leader of the group approaches Mirae with slow steps, cocking his rifle in the process. He can sense the spike of danger in the air from the gesture, and Jongin doesn't doubt that the man would end up pulling the trigger. Those who work for the government are immune to the law, after all, and no one would question the massacre of an entire orphanage when morning looms. No one would even care. 

"Are you sure you should be asking such questions, Yoon Mirae?" The leader casts a condescending look at Mirae, talking to her as though she's nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust beneath his shoes. "We can very well charge you with the crime of keeping a dangerous individual under protection instead of reporting him to the government. If you know what's best for yourself and the children under your care, I would suggest that you keep your mouth shut."

"I don't get what you mean—" Mirae refuses to back down, but she's immediately silenced when he raises his gun at her. As brave as Mirae is, Jongin can see the beads of cold sweat rolling down the sides of her face, her knuckles pale from being clenched much too tightly. She must sense the silent threat, too. 

"I would rather not delve into the specifics with so many pairs of ears listening in on our conversation, Yoon Mirae," he warns. "Now will you or will you not let us take him away quietly?" 

There's a beat of silence as Mirae contemplates the man's question, before her expression changes completely into one of anger. "Over my dead body," she hisses, taking everyone by surprise when she leaps to her feet and rams her shoulder into the man's chest, bowling him over with the sheer force of her weight and taking full advantage of his lack of preparedness. 

Several things happen at the same time just then. Jongin finds himself screaming at Mirae to duck the moment one of the guards closest to the children opens fire, and the room is drowned by a cacophony of terrified shrieks. Mirae turns around just in time to see the bullet slicing through the air in her direction, probably not having heard Jongin's warning. Jongin's voice dies in his throats when he realises Mirae is frozen in her position, the horror washing over him when his brain reminds him of the inevitable: 

She's going to get herself shot. Mirae is going to get shot, and she is going to _die_ —

"She's not going to die. Don't worry." Someone speaks up right next to Jongin, as though they could read Jongin's thoughts, and Jongin's astonished to find that it's Yixing. Nevertheless, Jongin's attention quickly returns to Mirae when he realises the anticipated scream of pain is strangely absent. His eyes widen at the sight of the bullet being frozen mid-air—or rather, its movement has been significantly slowed down by some weird force, making it crawl towards Mirae at snail's pace. 

There's no way this is happening. 

The bullet isn't the only thing in the room that's odd, however. Everyone else in the room is moving in slow motion, almost as though Jongin is looking at them past a bizarre veil. He tries to wriggle his fingers, wondering if he's in a dream-like state—there is absolutely _no way_ this can be happening right now; not ever—but he soon finds that he's not affected by the time lag at all. What in the name of—

"That is Zitao's power, if you will. Time manipulation." 

Jongin reels around abruptly at the sound, almost forgetting that Yixing's here with him. Yixing is leaning against the wall, amusement written all over his features, as if he's not bothered by the peculiarity of the situation at all. He probably isn't. 

_Who's Zitao?_ , Jongin wants to ask, because it's not a name he's familiar with, but his question is soon answered when another boy who's almost as tall as him comes to stand beside Yixing. His facial expression is a large contrast from Yixing's, frown creasing his forehead and eyebrows knotted as he takes in his surroundings, the corner of his mouth downturned in disapproval. 

Again, as though being able to read Jongin's thoughts, Yixing gestures mildly at his new companion, before smiling as he points at Jongin's arms. "You can free yourself, you know. They won't be able to do anything at all while Zitao's powers are in effect. Not quickly enough to keep you held down, anyway." 

True to Yixing's words, Jongin manages to pry himself loose almost effortlessly. It doesn't make him _happy_ to regain his freedom, however. His eyes take in his surroundings against his will, and Jongin's heart constricts when he thinks of the amount of money required to patch up the damage done by the group of ruthless soldiers—money they _don't_ have. It's highly unlikely that the government will be taking responsibility over this incident, either. 

"What is going on?" Jongin croaks at last, utterly confused about the chain of events thus far. Who is this Zitao person, and why is Yixing with him? When did Yixing even get out of the orphanage? Was he there at the start of the commotion? What did Yixing mean when he said Zitao has the power to manipulate time, when the power wielders are supposed to be a _myth_? 

Nothing seems to be making sense any longer. 

Yixing clearly isn't in the mood to answer Jongin's question, however, when he wags a finger at Jongin and tells him that his queries can wait—just like the other times where Yixing had baited Jongin into another subject about his life before Shin-Seoul, only to leave Jongin hanging in the end. It doesn't alleviate Jongin's frustration one bit, but it's not as though Jongin can do anything about it. Yixing is surprisingly tight-lipped when he puts his mind to it, and this is definitely one of those instances. 

Instead, Jongin watches as Yixing takes slow, careful steps to where Mirae is, still wearing his soft smile as he pulls her away from the trajectory of the bullet to safety, before plucking the rifle out of the leader's hands and tossing it aside. It's then that Jongin realises something else—while Zitao's powers may have slowed down everyone else's movements, it has absolutely no effect on their consciousness, if they way Mirae's eyes slowly dilate in recognition is anything to go by. The change is subtle, gradual, but it's there nonetheless. 

He's not sure if he should be fascinated by that finding. 

"You're being naïve if you think that little trick of yours is going to keep us immobile for long." 

Another voice speaks up just then, and Jongin freezes when he recognises it. He immediately turns to his left, paling when he sees the leader of the group of soldiers picking his weapon up from where Yixing had discarded it moments ago. Yixing and Zitao had expressions which mirrored each other, probably shocked at the man's ability to break free from the control exerted by Zitao's ancient power. A feral grin makes its presence known on the man's face once he realises he has the upper hand, and he raises his gun at the trio again without an ounce of hesitation. 

Several consecutive shots are indiscriminately fired in random directions by the man, probably intending to hit everyone in the vicinity. Jongin promptly jumps out of the way and rolls across the ground, but he feels sick in the stomach at the thought that the man has absolutely no regards for the lives of his own colleagues. The rest of the room is still moving at an extremely slow pace because of Zitao's powers, though he's unable to extend that control over the newly-fired rounds, resulting in some of them hitting the other masked men in their limbs. Jongin is silently glad that Mirae, the orphanage helpers, and the children are out of harm's way for now. 

A loud curse escapes the man's mouth when he finds out that Jongin, Yixing, and Zitao are unharmed. Jongin panics when the man swiftly changes the magazine, loading his weapon with more bullets before wantonly opening fire once again. Even Yixing cusses aloud this time, being the person who is closest in proximity with the evidently insane man, and a warm glow erupts from the tips of his fingers—the exact way Jongin had seen Yixing do in his dreams—before enveloping the children who are huddled together in a corner with it.

Jongin watches in mild fascination as the bullets bounce harmlessly off the dome-shaped light created by Yixing, then fall to the wooden flooring in successive clangs. Nevertheless, it only serves to rile the man up even more, and he continues shooting at the protective barrier conjured by Yixing, cackling when he sees the strain on Yixing's face. It gets Jongin extremely worried; clearly the man knows what he's doing, and he's learned about the limitations of these ancient powers only to turn it against its wielders. 

In any case, it's _not_ good news, and Jongin doesn't know what else he can do to help Yixing out, without putting his own life in jeopardy. 

"Oh no you don't," a new voice drawls this time, while Jongin is still agonising over his next course of action. He raises his gaze just in time to see a boy whose hair has been dyed a gaudy shade of orange walking past him. There's a certain laidback quality to his steps, despite the pressing nature of their current predicament. 

The man who had been shooting at Yixing abruptly turns around to regard the newcomer, his finger never leaving the trigger of his rifle, and Jongin covers himself with his bare arms, despite how futile his action might be against bullets of copper. Jongin's surprised to find that the bullets do not reach him, however, and when he looks up again, the newcomer is disinterestedly checking his nails and doing nothing else. 

For a moment, Jongin thinks he might be another time manipulator like Zitao, stopping bullets mid-air with a simple flick of his wrist. His inference isn't completely wrong; the bullets _did_ indeed stop in mid-air, but instead of moving slowly like Zitao's powers had done earlier, there are ripples made in the air, as though the bullets are trying to move forward but _can't_.

The man laughs hysterically at the sight, but refuses to relent. He merely slots in another magazine once his second runs out, and continues shooting at the orange-haired boy, even if his action is proven to be useless. The bullets being suspended in mid-air merely grows in number, but they can't get anywhere near the boy. 

"How many roaches like you are there, hiding from the government?" The man taunts, even though it's clear he's on the losing side. "Too afraid to surrender without relying on your _freakish powers_ , just like your parents?" 

His words seem to have struck a raw nerve in the trio, because Jongin can see the way their gazes turn dark in an instant—even Yixing's. He's never seen Yixing so angry before, his expression akin to the dark skies before the unleashing of a thunderstorm, and Jongin shudders involuntarily at the sight. Just as quickly, though, the anger is gone from Yixing's face, replaced by an eerie calmness as he rises to his feet. Yixing doesn't appear to be bothered by the fact that the man is still recklessly opening fire, walking calmly towards Jongin without taking the protective orange glow away from the children along with him. He exchanges a quiet word with the orange-haired boy along the way, to which the latter responds with a brief nod of his head, eyes never leaving the insane man in front of him. 

"Come on, Jongin. We have to go," Yixing's words are gentle and quiet, warm hand gentler still when he helps Jongin to stand. 

That's when Jongin snaps out of his trance-like state, looking bewilderedly at Yixing. "Go?" He croaks, begging for clarification, but Yixing still isn't inclined to explain anything to him as he drags Jongin towards the door. Jongin refuses to go any further, though, digging the balls of his bare feet into the wooden planks to hold them in place. "Where are we _going_?" 

Yixing turns on him with a serious expression, and Jongin can feel the atmosphere around him shifting. From the looks of it, Yixing's seemingly infinite patience is wearing dangerously thin; Jongin swallows out of nervous habit, and thinks it would be wiser for him to keep his mouth shut. He's being surrounded by a group of armed men who are hell-bent on capturing him, as well as three others who all possess some odd form of ability as was described in the myths. Yixing could very well leave Jongin to die at the hands of these men, if he so wished. 

But Yixing doesn't. His grip on Jongin's arm remains firm. "We can't stay here, Jongin. These men will try to capture _all_ of us, dead or alive," he says, voice urgent and almost pleading for Jongin to listen to him this time. "I wish I could explain everything to you, but we do not have the luxury of time. So _please_ , come with me, and I will clarify things eventually. I promise." 

Jongin's reminded of the very first day he had met Yixing under this very roof, and how he'd felt extremely comfortable around Yixing, to the point of wanting to entrust his greatest secrets to Yixing. He feels the same way now, even though there has been nothing but more questions filling his mind, and Jongin sighs. "Fine, I will. But what about Mirae and the children?" 

"They will be safe," Yixing answers, confidence in his posture and intonation. "Sehun will make sure of it. Now come." 

Jongin has no choice but to obey, letting Yixing lead the way, while Zitao remains hot on their heels. He doesn't turn back to spare a glance at the orphanage, even when blood-curdling screams of agony shatter the peaceful veil of night moments later.

He doesn't want to know what the orange-haired boy called Sehun had done.

 

♠︎

 

It almost feels as though they've been running for _hours_ , if the burn in his calves is any indication of it, but Jongin knows better. He has been living in Shin-Seoul for the greater part of his life, after all, and these streets are more than familiar to him, considering the amount of time he had spent exploring them with Taemin by his side when they were much younger. The river they were currently hurrying along can't be more than an hour away from the orphanage, and the fear of being caught by the group of masked men still lingers. 

The orange-haired boy called Sehun hadn't caught up to them after they had parted ways earlier, though Yixing tells Jongin not to worry. Zitao, for the silent companionship he'd offered on their short journey, had headed off in a different direction half an hour ago. For the sake of reducing the size of their travelling party, it seems, so that they wouldn't attract unnecessary attention from anyone who might stumble upon them. It's not much of an odd sight to find a pair of young boys on the streets in the wee hours of the morning, because this is when the poorer families would have to head out to make a living, but any more than that, they'd be glanced at suspiciously. 

There are, after all, rumours travelling rife, talking about a group of people who intend to topple the current government in order to restore social stability, no matter how farfetched the idea might be. But it gives the rest of them some semblance of hope, and support for the movement to pull through is growing steadily by the day. 

"Jongin, wait," Yixing tells him all of a sudden, stopping Jongin in his tracks. He drags Jongin towards the bridge without even explaining himself, and suddenly whips out a pocket knife from beneath his clothes. 

Jongin freaks out at the sight of the weapon, and tries to break free. "What the hell are you trying to do, Yixing?!" He yells when it becomes clear to him that Yixing isn't planning on letting him go; Yixing's grip on his left upper arm is almost starting to bruise, and Jongin is surprised because he hadn't expected Yixing to be this strong. 

"Be quiet, Jongin," Yixing hisses, glancing surreptitiously around them to see if they'd alerted anyone else of their presence. "And stay still, will you? I need to get that microchip out of your arm." 

"Microchip? _Shit_ ," Jongin immediately stills at the reminder. Indeed, there is a microchip embedded in his forearm by the government, to ease the tracking of its citizens in case another major disaster strikes the city. The realisation itself is enough to make the panic alarm in his head go off, because the government might have sent more soldiers after them by now. 

He still doesn't understand _why_ they'd want to capture him, though. 

"You're not just being tagged for your location, Jongin," Yixing tells him, as though he could read Jongin's thoughts, and he loosens his grip on Jongin's arm. There is a hint of regret and perhaps some form of anger lacing his words. "The chip has an extra function, especially for people like us. It has been engineered with the hidden ability to be activated once these _ancient powers_ are used, and the authorities would be alerted of our locations."

"Us?" Jongin echoes, wondering if he had misheard Yixing. Surely he's only talking about himself, Zitao, and Sehun? 

"Us," Yixing confirms, gesturing between himself and Jongin, gaze dead serious. "Including you. We already have our chips removed. You're the only one left with it." 

Jongin's head spins. He doesn't get the implication behind Yixing's statement. He can't conjure amazing abilities like Yixing's or Sehun's, can't control time like Zitao can. There is no way he can be considered a part of the group of individuals with ancient powers, because Jongin has always been just that—a plain, orphaned boy who's struggling to find his footing in this world, trying to survive just another day amongst the ruins of _has-beens_. 

"Yesterday evening. You appeared out of thin air back at the orphanage." Yixing narrows his eyes at Jongin, seemingly trying to read Jongin's expressions. Every word is enunciated slowly and clearly, allowing no room for misinterpretations. Does he think Jongin's lying? "I was waiting for you outside the orphanage, when you did not return from your errand in Goyang on time. I saw you with my very own eyes. Do you not remember?"

"I—" Jongin starts, then stops, swallowing against the lump lodged in his throat. Suddenly he doesn't even know who he is— _what_ he is—any longer. "I don't— I didn't know how I got back to Shin-Seoul. The last thing I remembered was me getting chased down by those thugs in the Detrita, and then suddenly I was lying on the ground in front of the orphanage. I thought I had managed to outrun them before I passed out from the shock." 

"You didn't," comes the confirmation. While Yixing would always tell him half-truths, he's never actually _lied_ to Jongin. He doesn't have a reason to risk his own life to get Jongin away from the orphanage, either, so Jongin is inclined to really, _really_ invest his trust in Yixing. At the very least, Yixing can reassure Jongin that he's not losing his mind from the recurrent dreams he's been having over the last few months. "There is a reason why I came to the orphanage, but it's a long story and time isn't on our side. If we don't move on soon, they'll catch up to us, and we can't risk that. Will you allow me to get that microchip out?" 

Jongin takes a brief look at the scar on his upper arm, feeling the faint thrum of the integrated circuit beneath his skin. It's all too easy to forget about the implant in his arm, when he's learned to ignore it soon after obtaining the chip. Now that his life is in jeopardy, though, all Jongin wants is to get it out, consequences be damned. 

So he swallows his anxiety and offers Yixing his arm, nodding once to indicate that Yixing has his complete trust. Yixing's hand is steady as he raises the pocket knife, completely focused on the location of the implant. 

Jongin howls the moment the knife cuts into skin.

 

♠︎

 

Everything Jongin has ever known in his life is proven wrong, and his world is turned upside down in mere matter of days. 

Just before the weekend, he was no one but a boy who'd been orphaned after the untimely death of his parents, struggling to survive in a new world where money is scarce. He had a pretty simplified view of the world after the apocalypse, thinking that they'll make it through the toughest of days just by working hard—all while daydreaming about the myths which told of the wielders of the ancient powers. 

His little fantasies got him by on most days, but never a moment in his life did Jongin ever think they were real. 

That is, until the group of armed men stormed into the orphanage on a mission to capture _him_ —Kim Jongin, the boy next door—without even telling him why. That very same night, he discovered that the nightmares about the people with ancient powers which have been plaguing him on the daily, weren't _just_ a part of his fantasies. Moreover, while Jongin had laughed at the idea of Yixing being someone who held one of the ancient powers before, he certainly isn't laughing now, not after witnessing for himself what Yixing is capable of doing. 

He absently runs his thumb over a spot on his left arm, where the government's microchip was previously embedded, as he mulls over the incidents which have unfolded over the last couple of days. The microchip is already lying on the floor of the Hangang, doomed to a life of disintegration. As far as the government is concerned, Kim Jongin is dead, probably having drowned himself in the river from guilt. Yixing had healed the wound shortly after removing the chip from his arm, leaving no trace of him ever having cut Jongin's skin open with a knife.

Even the faint scar which had accompanied Jongin for the last decade is completely gone now, symbolising a brand new point in his life. 

Jongin's hands turn clammy at the mere thought of his uncertain future. He has never walked out the doors of the orphanage with the intention of never returning to it before, and he doesn't know of a life outside of the orphanage. For the past ten years, Jongin has been surrounded by other children who aren't related to him by blood but share the same, unfortunate fate of losing their parents, either to the apocalypse or to poverty. It's the harsh reality of their lives, but they soon bonded through their hardships, and they were _contented_. Beggars can't be choosers after all. At least Jongin had Mirae, who took over the status of a parent in Jongin's life shortly after the apocalypse had wiped out more than three-quarters of the world's population. 

Right now, though, he's seated on the dusty floor of an abandoned building in the Detrita, hiding himself in a secluded corner where no one else could bother him. There are voices conversing quietly in the room next to the one he's in, all in voices he's not remotely familiar with, save for Yixing's calming, accented lilt thrown into the mix every now and then. He could join them if he wanted to, but Jongin isn't too keen on doing so. He doesn't even know them, and he's not the most extroverted person around, either. It has always been difficult for him to warm up to strangers, and he'd suffered from a protracted period of awkwardness around Seongwoo, Joohyun, and Seungwan before he could even look at them in the eye. Jongin wasn't known as the quiet boy who'd always hide his face behind a book for nothing. 

There wasn't anything above simple greetings when Jongin had followed Yixing through the doors of the building several nights ago—no overloading of information or too many new names for him to remember, no bombarding of questions that Jongin might not have answers for. Nothing apart from a brief 'hello' or a nod of acknowledgement. Yixing had probably sensed Jongin's distress from having to run away from the orphanage to save himself _and_ to protect Mirae and the children from further harm, and asked of his other friends to not bother Jongin the moment he entered the house. Yixing's supportive hand had remained on the small of Jongin's back throughout, which calmed Jongin down considerably. For that, Jongin is grateful. He doesn't think he would be able to pin eight new names to their faces that same night; it's already great enough a miracle that he could remember Sehun's and Zitao's names to begin with.

Nevertheless, Jongin isn't oblivious to the way they had eyed him with distrust, even when Yixing is hovering protectively over him. Jongin doesn't doubt that these friends of Yixing's are the wielders of the other ancient powers as described in the myths, and he knows this is their safe house, despite it being located in the Detrita. The most dangerous place is always the safest, after all—with their powers, they're sure to be able to fend off any and all threats, especially when they're all congregated together. By letting a virtual stranger like Jongin into their safe haven, with no prior knowledge of his allegiance or the extent of the powers he supposedly possesses, however, he can't blame them for feeling threatened. He would feel the same way, if he were in their shoes. 

If there's another thing he's thankful for, it's for the fact that Yixing doesn't bring up the incident at the orphanage. Jongin has no idea what had happened after they'd left, despite having his suspicions—he saw the bloodstains on Sehun's shirt, even if Sehun had quickly avoided his eyes and disappeared into the room which he apparently shares with Zitao to change. Jongin doesn't want to find out whose blood it is, but he fervently hopes that it doesn't belong to Mirae, or any of the other children. He might go ballistic if he discovered that any one of them were hurt. 

Jongin also knows Yixing is trying hard to make him feel at home, to let Jongin feel that he _belongs_ here with them, even if Jongin doesn't have a clue what his supposed powers are, and Jongin appreciates it. He really does. It shows in the way Yixing continuously keeps him company even at night, climbing under the thin covers with Jongin and cuddling with him to dispel the looming winter cold. Yixing holds Jongin like he's the most precious person in the world to him, something which Jongin has never experienced after his mother's death. 

Jongin can't say he doesn't welcome it, but he's unsure where their relationship stands at this point of time.

That's when someone raps their knuckles on the door thrice in quick succession, pulling Jongin out of the depth of his thoughts. He looks up from his knees to find Yixing standing at the doorway, smiling softly at him, and Jongin's heart does a weird flip at the sight. His face goes red moments later, however, when he realises Yixing isn't alone. The embarrassment consumes him so quickly that Jongin immediately buries his face behind his indrawn legs once again, trying to hide himself from view. 

"Jongin? Can we come in?" Yixing asks, and Jongin hates that he can hear the uncertainty in the older boy's voice. It's almost as though he can sense the way Jongin has his guard up at the sight of another stranger. In the last few days, it has always been Jongin and Yixing together; there was no one else to disturb their peace. Yixing didn't even bring up the matter regarding Jongin's powers, and he'd been on the verge of forgetting it. With the appearance of another face beside Yixing, though, Jongin knows that he's no longer allowed to run from the strange reality he suddenly finds himself a part of.

Not wanting to appear prickly, Jongin reluctantly nods his assent. He figures it's worth ignoring his discomfort for, when another beautiful smile blooms on Yixing's face, his dimples making their presence known as he comes into the room to join Jongin in the corner. The other man is more cautious with his actions, approaching Jongin slowly as though he's trying not to scare a caged animal any further. Jongin merely keeps his wary eyes on him, only feeling a little more at ease when Yixing takes a seat beside him and bumps his shoulder against Jongin's. 

Jongin has to admit this, though. The man has very delicate features, making him appear almost elfin, and when he smiles, it's actually warm, almost on par with Yixing's, yet not quite having the same effect. Jongin squirms, however, when he feels invisible tendrils crawling about in his mind, and immediately pulls away, shocked and confused. 

"Luhan, I told you not to do that," Yixing suddenly reprimands, and the tendrils disappear from Jongin's mind. Jongin glances at the man, and notices the sheepish look he's wearing as he sits on the floor across Jongin, before he's back to appearing serene. His expression is almost jarring against the barren world they're living in, like he doesn't belong. 

"Sorry, I'm a creature of habit," the man called Luhan apologises, and something akin to realisation and familiarity clicks in Jongin's mind when he manages to process the voice. 

" _You're_ the one Yixing was talking to in the alley the other ni—" Jongin exclaims, only to slap a hand across his mouth to shut himself up when he realises what he's divulging. None of them were supposed to know that he was spying on their private conversation, especially Yixing. How would Yixing feel, if he knew that Jongin doesn't exactly trust him wholeheartedly? 

Just as the guilt starts consuming Jongin once again, Luhan actually _laughs_ at him. "I know," he says simply, and Jongin's heart abruptly stops beating for a short moment. "I wield the power of mind-reading and mind control, Jongin. I can hear another person's thoughts, when they're within a hundred-metre radius from me. You weren't exactly quiet even when concealed from sight, you know."

Jongin gurgles in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"It's fine. You weren't eavesdropping," Yixing tells him, and once again, Jongin finds himself feeling very, very confused. 

"What do you mean I wasn't eavesdropping? I clearly heard you two conversing when I wasn't supposed to—" 

_Are you sure you actually heard us? Or is it a figment of your imagination?_ Luhan's voice asks. Jongin wouldn't have been _this_ taken aback, if he hadn't witnessed for himself how Luhan's lips weren't moving as he said those words. Jongin actually scoots backwards out of surprise, colliding with the wooden wall with a loud thud. 

"Holy shit—"

Beside him, Jongin hears Yixing let out a long-suffering sigh, which makes him suspect that this isn't the first time Luhan had pulled such a prank on someone else. "Luhan, seriously. Stop scaring him," Yixing chastises, while Luhan merely smiles back innocently and promises not to do it again—all in Xin-Beijing dialect, and Jongin _still_ doesn't know how he manages to understand without them translating the words into a language Jongin can actually speak. 

"Because we're subconsciously translating our words into Korean. Part of a painful learning process," Luhan shrugs, once again reading Jongin's thoughts, and he doesn't even seem abashed when Yixing shoots him a dirty look. "On to serious matters, though; you don't seem to know that you're a power wielder. Why is that?" 

"How do _you_ know I have these... powers when you don't even know me? When I don't even know it myself?" Jongin defends, even if he knew this topic was bound to come up during the course of their conversation. There is no other reason why Yixing should bring one of his friends along to their shared room otherwise, not when he's been giving Jongin so much space to breathe and think on his own in the past couple of days. 

Luhan taps his chin in consideration. "I'm supposed to be one-half of the guardians who hold the rest of us together. I can track the power wielders down, since I can detect the oscillation of these powers even when they lie dormant in your body. That was how I found you in the orphanage upon my arrival in Shin-Seoul. You're the last piece of our puzzle." 

Jongin's a little fascinated by the revelation, somehow. Not much is known about the wielders of the ancient powers, considering the fact that the books were written by someone who didn't possess such abilities—Yixing told him on their second day in this safe house, as part of his ramblings on how the myths have depicted them wrongly. Nevertheless, he still feels as though he's an outsider, trying to take a peek into the sacred circle of these guardians while standing on tiptoes, if only because he doesn't know the true extent of his abilities. How could he, when it has never manifested in a tangible form all his life?

"Oh, but it _has_ manifested itself. Don't you remember?" Luhan prods again, though when Jongin merely looks back at him all confused, Luhan heaves a sigh and massages the bridge of his nose, probably realising Jongin really is _that_ clueless about everything. "That day, didn't you find yourself back at the orphanage with no recollection how you had gotten there?" 

Jongin slowly nods, because that evening's incident still remains a mystery to him. He's not that surprised by Luhan's knowledge of the event, though. Either Yixing had told him about it, or he must've dug up that piece of information from rummaging through Jongin's mind over the short span of a few minutes. He doesn't doubt that Luhan has the ability to conceal his presence in another person's thoughts; it's probably only a matter of whether Luhan is _bothered_ enough to hide himself.

"I recall being hara—" Jongin starts, then decides to change his wording lest Yixing worried. No one else needs to know what had happened at the Detrita, and he will bring this secret to the grave with him. However, judging from the subtle quirk of Luhan's eyebrow, there's a large possibility that he already knew. Still, Jongin pretends as though he's largely unaffected by the incident. "—attacked by a group of thugs while travelling through the Detrita, then at one point felt as though my supply of air was being cut off. I think I might have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was already in front of the orphanage, and Yixing was there to help me up. I can't remember everything else in between." 

Yixing squeezes his shoulder encouragingly just then, probably sensing his discomfort. Jongin mutters his quiet gratitude for the gesture. 

Thankfully, Luhan is considerate enough to not call Jongin out on his partial lie. Instead, he chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully before releasing it, but he keeps his eyes on the point of contact between Jongin and Yixing's bodies. Jongin flushes a little at the scrutiny, but makes no move to distance himself. He's much too comfortable to bother. "What if I told you it's not a gap in your memories?" 

Jongin immediately straightens himself. "What?" 

"Like I said, it's _not_ a gap in your memories. You didn't forget anything. The gap doesn't exist," Luhan explains patiently, though something tells Jongin that patience isn't exactly a trait of his. Beside him, Yixing is sniggering at Luhan, to which Luhan responds with a poorly concealed scowl, but he proceeds to ignore Yixing soon after in favour of continuing his explanation. "You possess the power of spatial manipulation, Jongin. You can _teleport_ yourself to any place you desire. Did you desperately wish that you were back at the orphanage while you were being attacked at the Detrita?" 

He tries to recall his exact feelings and thoughts while the leader of the thugs was still trying to undress him completely, and Jongin's jaw falls open when he realises that yes, he _did_ indeed imagine himself basking in the much-needed warmth of the orphanage before he found himself lying in front of it. 

"Then that feeling of being sucked into a void—" Jongin starts, and Luhan is already nodding in affirmation before he can even complete his question. Holy shit. He really _does_ have one of the ancient powers. "But how did I even get it? I mean, it's not like I can be born with it, can I?" 

Jongin soon finds out that he'd actually answered his own question, when both Yixing and Luhan turn to look at him with serious expressions on their faces. He wishes he hadn't asked at all.

 

♠︎

 

_Bloodlines._

The word keeps echoing in his head, no matter how much effort Jongin puts into ignoring it. It just seems impossible at this point of time, after everything he's learned about the wielders of the ancient powers and their true role in the apocalypse which happened a decade ago. 

He doesn't think it's possible to escape the overload of information at all, regardless of the delay between his first meeting with the rest of the guardians and Yixing actually speaking to Jongin about it. 

Bloodlines. The ancient powers run within the family, even though no one knew how the first guardians who walked upon this planet had actually obtained them. Sure there were anecdotes, but no one can ascertain the amount of truth belying them, considering how they were passed on to the next generation through word of mouth. It's hard to tell how much these anecdotes have been modified over the last few centuries, as recall bias would definitely have made an impact on the authenticity of each story. 

Regardless, the cold hard truth still remains: Jongin possesses the ancient power of spatial manipulation, and without a doubt, his father definitely had it too. He'd seen it in his dreams, the way his father had zipped across the lands out of harm's way, disappearing from one spot only to reappear in another. The way he'd seen _himself_ in them, teleporting away from imminent danger when a boy shot sharp bolts of ice at him—the boy whom Jongin discovers is called Minseok, the eldest out of the group of power wielders hiding from the government's talons. The fear for the boy is so deeply ingrained in Jongin that he would go through great lengths to avoid any direct contact with him, something which Yixing and Luhan are still trying to coax Jongin out of. 

It turns out that his dreams weren't mere _dreams_ ; they were bits and pieces of his repressed memories, slowly crawling back to the surface once the modification barrier holding them in begins to dissolve. They were also prophecies of the future unknown, telling Jongin of the grim possibility of the guardians fighting against one another—the way the generation before them had done, and had brought the world to a complete standstill with their deadly, destructive powers—if he ever walks away from the group, deciding that he doesn't want to have anything to do with them. 

That's where Luhan comes in, or so he tells Jongin, and Jongin is supposed to help him. Of course, Jongin knows this part of the myth—the guardians who hold the power of mind reading and spatial manipulation are supposed to unite the rest of the guardians, to balance the dark and light sides of their abilities. Without either of them, the powers of the other guardians would turn highly volatile and unstable, and they'd end up posing a huge threat to the rest of humankind. But that's where the problem starts: Jongin _doesn't_ know the extent of his own abilities, or even how to control them at will. The only time it had made itself known was when Jongin had felt threatened and was extremely desperate to save himself, though it's clear that they couldn't depend on such uncertainty to pull the rest of the guardians together. 

It's a good thing Luhan has had enough experience in training the rest of the guardians to control their respective powers, and made quick work of Jongin. It's also a good thing Jongin is a fast learner. By the end of the second day, Jongin has managed to teleport himself out of the building and back in without slamming his head into walls and getting himself hurt, although he _has_ to admit that he rather enjoys the undivided attention Yixing gives him whenever he injures himself. Luhan must know this; he's smirked at Jongin more times than Jongin can actually count, whenever he catches Yixing hovering over Jongin like a protective mother hen, trying to heal various cuts and bruises on Jongin's body with his powers. Jongin resolutely ignores Luhan's knowing looks, after scowling at the older boy for the tenth time in a row. 

But of course, the revelations do not end with Jongin finding out that he's one of the guardians of these ancient powers, or that he had inherited them from his father. He realises they're but a small part of a bigger picture one day, when he asks Yixing about his parents, and the reason why he, Zitao, and Sehun had been so livid when the leader of the armed forces sent after Jongin by the government had mentioned about them. Yixing had—very angrily, if Jongin might add—recounted how they were forcefully separated from their parents, in order to keep them safe. Each guardian had a similar story to tell; the successors to these ancient powers had to be given away to someone they could trust, just before the climax of the battle which had nearly culminated in the total destruction of the world, hidden away from plain sight so that their powers couldn't be exploited. No one but the children themselves knew of their own abilities, of course, told to them by their parents while they were younger. 

Except for Jongin. 

He doesn't know why his parents have never thought it was necessary for them to let Jongin know about the powers which lay dormant in him. Age mustn't have been the issue; Yixing knew of his ability to heal another living thing since he was five, while Luhan has been honing his own since he was old enough to differentiate between right and wrong. 

That's when Yixing drops another bomb on him, during one of Jongin's practice sessions. "Mirae knows about the guardians of the ancient powers. She knows they exist," he said, and Jongin had slammed face first into the door out of shock, breaking his nose and soaking his shirt with blood, but Yixing hadn't really been apologetic about it.

"What do you mean by that? How is it possible that Mirae-noonim knows about you—about _us_?" Jongin had asked, once Yixing had patched him up and the blood was no longer leaking from his nose like an open tap. "How could you drop something like that on me out of the blue?" 

"The shock factor is necessary," or so Yixing had told him, and Jongin really can't decide if he still likes or hates Yixing for it. "Also, I meant exactly what I said. She knows about me, from the very first day I had joined the orphanage. I didn't even have to tell her. And most importantly, she knows about you, too." 

Jongin had never been gladder to be seated for once, or he might even break his leg because of Yixing's second revelation. If what Yixing had said was true, then it was truly unthinkable. Why Mirae would remain mum about the subject all these years? She didn't have the right to conceal the truth from him—the truth about his parents, and about him.

And, for the first time ever in his life, Jongin found himself resenting Mirae for doing this. Nevertheless, Yixing had refused to divulge anything else, and told Jongin he had to verify the reasons behind Mirae's deliberate concealment on his own, because it wasn't Yixing's place to speak on her behalf. 

It's how he finds himself in a secluded alleyway closest to the orphanage, hiding in the shadows as he waits for the perfect opportunity to walk out. He had managed to teleport himself _and_ Yixing there in one piece, an excellent feat considering how green he still is with regards to the control of his own abilities. The children living in the orphanage have been evacuated after the incident the other night, and are now being taken care of by other families around the neighbourhood, Sehun had informed, and Jongin felt immensely relieved by the knowledge. These families must've heard of the attack on the orphanage, and had voluntarily taken the children under their custody, but not after Luhan had modified their memories to wipe out the traumatising incident altogether. It wouldn't be fair for them to relive the frightening night over and over again.

Jongin misses them greatly, but it's for the best. He can't possibly live it down, if they were to get injured because of him.

Mirae is still living in the orphanage, though, despite having closing it down, and Jongin _understands_ her rationale. It has been their home for the past decade, after all, and they've gone through thick and thin while living under its roof. It's not easy to abandon it just like that, regardless of the destruction inflicted upon it by the group of masked men. He would have done the same, if his life wasn't under threat from the government. He was supposed to be _dead_ , his body left to decay at the bottom of the Hangang. He can no longer make an appearance in the open, unless and until they resolve this mess and find out why exactly the government is targeting them, when they were never a threat to the government to begin with. 

Jongin turns to his left to regard Yixing when he squeezes Jongin's hand in encouragement, and Jongin tries to smile in response, even though he feels extremely nauseated. He can't stop thinking of the things Yixing had told him about Mirae, the thoughts so intrusive that it kept Jongin tossing and turning in bed at night. While Jongin knew that Yixing came to the orphanage as a helper in order to get closer to him—a plan concocted by Luhan, bless his soul—he never realised that Mirae had a hand in it, until Yixing had divulged that fact to him. 

It brings Jongin back to one question—how much does Mirae know about the guardians of the ancient powers, and what exactly is her role in this? 

Jongin makes his move the moment the veil of night falls upon them, plunging the streets into total darkness. He sneaks into the orphanage through the secret escape in the back, once he's made sure the coast is clear. It doesn't seem as though the government is bothered enough to keep guards stationed around the orphanage, probably not expecting Jongin to turn up again, but they can never be too careful with their actions. Surveillance drones, in particular, would pose a great threat if they ever manage to catch Jongin and Yixing on camera, and they're _everywhere_. 

The house is completely dark and silent when he finally steps in, devoid of the liveliness Jongin has been so accustomed to over the years. By this time, they would usually be crowded around the dining table after cleaning up, happily eating whatever food they have on the table while talking about their day. It was the simpler times, but at least they were all contented. He vaguely wonders if he'll be able to witness such a sight again. It seems highly unlikely, with the recent turn of events. 

As though sensing his thoughts, Yixing, who'd been following after Jongin in silence all this while, reaches forth to hold his hand. "Don't worry about it, Jongin. They'll be fine. We'll be fine." 

Jongin musters a small smile in response, gaining strength from Yixing's reassurance. "You're right. Let's find Mirae," he tells Yixing, then they're on their way once more. Yixing's hand remains firm around Jongin's as they make it through the house, holding on tightly as they walk past the main hall where the occupants of the orphanage had been held captive just a week ago. Jongin thinks it's a blessing in disguise, to not have any source of light illuminating their path. He has an inkling of what Sehun had done the other night, and he doesn't want to be greeted by the sight of blood tainting the floorboards and the walls. At least it keeps the image of the orphanage pristine and homely in his mind. 

Thankfully, Mirae has a single candle lit up in her room, which makes it easier for them to locate it in complete darkness. She has her head bent over the desk, completely immersed in penning a letter in the dim lighting when Jongin peeks into her room, though Jongin's heart clenches at the sight of her. There are fading bruises on the angle of her jaw in the shape of fingers, surely left behind by that asshole who'd roughly handled her last week. She has also lost a significant amount of weight, her skin now pulling taut over the edges of her bones. Mirae's eyes are red and swollen, probably having cried before Jongin and Yixing had entered the house, and the dark circles beneath her eyes are a lot more prominent now.

"Mirae-noonim, how have you been?" Jongin finally finds his voice and walks into the room when Yixing gives him an encouraging push. He winces, however, when Mirae scoots back in her chair out of surprise, its legs dragging harshly across the dilapidated floorboards. 

"Jongin! Yixing! What are you both doing here?" She hisses furiously as she gets out of the chair, wiping at her eyes when her tears fall afresh, but she pulls Jongin into a tight embrace regardless. Jongin finds himself relaxing in her hold, when her body heat seeps into his clothes and envelopes him like a warm cocoon. It reminds him of the way she'd held him tight upon exiting the bunker, a desperate attempt to shield his young eyes from the destruction which greeted them like a hard slap across the cheek. "I was so worried about you. Do you have any idea how terrible I felt when they told me they tracked your location down and found you unmoving in Hangang?" 

Jongin laughs lightly and extracts himself from Mirae's embrace, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. No matter how much Mirae denies it, she still has that motherly side to her. "We had no choice but to remove the microchip in order to throw them off our trail. I'm here now. I'm safe. Did they do anything to you?" 

Mirae shakes her head, pulling both Jongin and Yixing to sit on her bed. Jongin notices the distinct absence of her armchair in the corner, as well as the chipped edges of her meagre bookshelf. They must have trashed her room when she had refused to cooperate. The mere thought of it makes Jongin's blood boil. "They only wanted you. Injuring the rest of us any further would only give them a terrible name, which is something they're hell-bent on avoiding, it seems."

Jongin snorts. "As if they don't already have a bad enough name amongst the grassroots. They're really _that_ clueless." 

"Unfortunately, when they get too comfortable with the idea that no one's actively revolting against them, it happens," Yixing chimes in, before nudging Jongin with his elbow. Right; they had to speak to Mirae and extract the necessary information as quickly as they could. It's not safe for them to remain for long, even when both their microchips have been removed. Night patrols would begin soon, and they must have had the orphanage tagged. It won't bode well for them, if the soldiers happen to pass by Mirae's room and hear more than one voice coming from within. 

"Mirae-noonim, there's actually a reason why we're here. There's something I really need to know," Jongin immediately changes the subject, though judging by the calmness exuded by Mirae, she must have expected as much. 

"Is this about your powers, or why I've kept mum about it?" She asks, her words tinged with regret. "Do you remember when your mother left you with me at the bunker?"

Jongin swallows thickly. Of course he does. He's been dreaming of that fateful day on most nights before Yixing came into his life, her sad smile etched in the deepest recesses of his mind. "She told me she was going to get my dad, then she'd come back for me," he recounts, choking on unwanted emotions. He smiles in gratitude when Yixing squeezes his arm in encouragement.

"She wasn't lying, you know," Mirae informs him, gaze tender. "She did intend to return with your father in tow, but unfortunately—"

 _Unfortunately she perished along with your father_ is probably what Mirae intends to say, but doesn't. Jongin already knows that much, though. He has tried to run away from reality for as long as he could remember, until he could run no more. "Did she tell you anything else? I remember her talking to you right before she left." 

"Yes, she did," Mirae confirms, this time looking everywhere else but at Jongin. Fresh tears are pricking at the corner of her eyes, but it's clear that she's trying to keep them at bay. Jongin remembers them to be good friends, always baking and cooking together whenever there's a special occasion to celebrate. It was how Jongin had ever gotten close enough to Mirae in the first place, and the only reason why he hadn't ran after his mother the moment she walked away from him. Deep down, he had always known that Mirae would do everything in her capacity to keep him safe—because she had promised Jongin's mother.

"I'd always known about your abilities, and the fact that it runs in your blood. Your father had shown it to me once, under your mother's request. They have always been worried that they might need to hide you someday, and they needed someone to care for you when that day came," she continues, and Jongin listens attentively. "Needless to say, they foresaw that the world might end in the way the apocalypse had struck. I couldn't say no, when she asked of me to raise you like my own child in the event that they could not make it back alive." 

"And I'm grateful for that, Mirae-noonim. I really am," Jongin says sincerely, passing her a piece of tissue when she could no longer hold her tears back. "But my memories were modified, weren't they? I was out there, witnessing everything as the world came to an end. I thought they were dreams at first, before I learnt that my father possessed the ability to teleport. Now I'm certain that it was in fact part of my memories, part of what I saw."

Jongin shivers when he recalls the way the black-scaled dragon had unleashed a fireball in his direction, and the panic in his father's eyes before he'd zipped out of sight. That was the extent of his nightmares, and he never knew what had transpired after because he'd be awake and screaming by then. Yixing seems to realise this, for he wraps his arm around Jongin's shoulders and pulls him close, whispering a gentle _don't think about it_ in Jongin's ear. Jongin pats Yixing's knee to reassure him that he's fine. 

There's a wry smile on Mirae's lips when she turns to look at Jongin once again. "It was my fault. I should have dragged you back into the bunker, no matter how much you cried and begged to be allowed outside. You could have died, if your father hadn't grabbed you in the nick of time. There was no other choice but to wipe out your memories of the incident, to erase any possibility of you remembering the fact that you hold these powers, too."

"How did you manage to modify my memories, then? Are you a power wielder as well?" Jongin asks. It's the final missing piece of the puzzle he's been trying to put together. Nothing else makes sense to Jongin, no matter which angle he tries to view it from. If Mirae was a power wielder too, it would explain how the leader of the group which attacked them knew of her name. They might have had her under surveillance all along, though Jongin considers it a miracle that his identity as the offspring of a spatial manipulator could go unnoticed for so long. 

That's when Mirae stops wiping her tears, and holds Jongin's gaze seriously. "Jongin, I think there must be some sort of misunderstanding. I'm nothing but a layperson. I'm not a descendent of the power wielders." 

"Then who—" 

"Your mother was the one who wiped out your memories before returning to be with your father on the battlefield. She was a mind-reader."

 

♠︎

 

Jongin really feels as though his world has been tipped over on its axis. 

Everything he's ever known and believed to be true have been proved false in the short span of a week, though nothing comes close to the shock of finding out that _both_ his parents were wielders of these ancient powers. Luhan doesn't seem surprised when Yixing tells him what they had discovered from Mirae, merely nodding thoughtfully until Yixing was done. He appears to have known that he was somehow related to Jongin's mother, something about detecting bits of his own powers in Jongin if he delves deep enough into the oscillation of Jongin's innate abilities. Jongin, on the other hand, had been too shell-shocked by the revelation to talk, and they'd left him largely undisturbed in his usual corner of the room as they discussed their next course of action. 

_They might not be dead. All of them._

It was the last thing Mirae had told them before Jongin and Yixing had left the orphanage for good, but it definitely didn't help Jongin understand anything at all, especially when Yixing had replied with a quiet, "I know." The revelations just keep piling on top of him, each more shocking than the last, and Jongin can't help but wonder if he'll ever hear the end of it. 

Compared to the rest of the guardians, he's considered a rookie in terms of his knowledge about his abilities as well as the history of the power wielders, seeing that his parents have never mentioned any of that to him. Or perhaps they _have_ , only for his mother to bury every last bit of it in the depths of his subconscious mind, when she'd used her powers on him and modified his memories. He couldn't resent her no matter how much he wants to, however. His mother had always placed his best interests as her priority; no doubt this is part of it. She had probably wanted to keep him safe; it's growing increasingly obvious that having these powers would only bring them more trouble. 

Nevertheless, there is another matter more pressing, and Jongin is desperate for answers. 

"Yixing, what did you mean when you said you knew they might not be dead?" He asks once a brief silence has settled in between Yixing and Luhan. They both look at him at the same time, though Yixing immediately gets to his feet and makes his way to where Jongin is. Luhan looks rightfully troubled for once at Jongin's question, but Jongin really wishes he would stop hiding things from him. If he truly wants Jongin to blend in with the rest of the group, then their secrets would really have to go. 

Yixing exhales tiredly as he makes himself comfortable beside Jongin. There's wariness marring his usually serene face, an expression which seems entirely out of place. "It's... _complicated_ , Jongin."

"Then make me understand," Jongin shoots back, not caring if he sounds petulant. He's tired of being kept in the dark all the time, tired of everyone hiding things from him. "I'm not a child anymore. If you don't explain it to me, then I would never understand it, will I?" 

Luhan snickers a little from his end of the room. "A feisty one you've got yourself there, Xing."

Yixing shoots him a glare, before returning his attention to Jongin. He sighs again, this time in resignation. "We have been hearing rumours that the Korean government is running top secret experiments, in collaboration with the Chinese government. Experiments which involve humans."

"Humans with special powers, to be more precise," Luhan interjects, the corner of his mouth downturned in disgust and disapproval. "Take a wild guess who these humans actually are."

Jongin suddenly feels sick to the stomach. "The guardians of the ancient powers."

Beside him, Yixing nods reluctantly. "As we've told you before, these powers run along our bloodlines. So they're all family, in one way or another, even if we've never met them before." The words _just like how your mother and Luhan may have been distantly related_ remains unsaid, but Jongin picks it up from the subtle change in Luhan's expressions all the same. "The thing is, those who have discovered their powers a long time ago also have the knowledge of relinquishing or keeping their powers down to a bare minimum, and hence are able to prevent anyone else from tapping into it. Us, on the other hand, do not have that ability."

"Is that why they're after us? To extract our powers for their experiments?" Jongin asks, horrified at the mere thought of being turned into a human guinea pig. He can't even begin imagining the conditions of those who were held captive, and stops himself short before the thoughts of being tortured enters his consciousness. He shudders. 

"They may have succeeded in extracting some of them," Luhan supplements, looking troubled. "Zitao tells me they managed to reverse his control on time the other night, at the orphanage." 

"They did," Yixing confirms, his expression mirroring Luhan's. "But we haven't figured how they did it, or if they have a device dedicated to that function. The possibilities are endless."

"My guess is that they might have managed to extract all but three powers—those of spatial manipulation, mind-reading, and healing," Luhan says again, his facial expression turning stormier by the minute. "My mother had committed suicide before the height of the war between opposing factions of the guardians, which plunged their abilities into a state of instability because she was the unifying factor for her generation. That was why they came after me the moment they discovered my location in Xin-Beijing."

"If my mother is indeed related to yours, then wouldn't they have managed to extract hers if she were captured?" Jongin questions. Now that the cat is out of the bag, he sincerely hopes both his parents are alive and well, though the possibility seems slim. 

Luhan shrugs. "Like I said, my mother was the unification factor—in other words, the strongest mind-reader of her generation. She passed down a bulk of her powers to me before she died, taught me everything she could; that is why they are after me. Your mother may have the same powers, but they might not be strong enough to stabilise the other eleven powers on her own."

Okay, fine, that makes sense. "Do you know where they are, then? Or how many of them are still alive?" 

A smug smile spreads across his face as Luhan pulls himself to stand, just as the tallest guardian of the lot pokes his head into the room. Yifan, if Jongin recalls correctly—the guardian of flight, and by extension, the one who possesses the ability to transform into a dragon. He's still terrified of Yifan as a result of his nightmares, but he knows that Yifan is kind deep within. It shows in the way he treats Luhan with extreme gentleness, or how he looks at Luhan like he's the only person who matters in the world. At the very least, the mind-reader has someone who'd protect him fiercely no matter what happens. 

"Of course," Luhan quips airily as he takes Yifan's hand in his. "I can feel the oscillation of the ancient powers, no matter how weak they are or how dormant they lie, remember? We're planning a reconnaissance mission soon. Are you in, then?" 

For once, Jongin wants to do something useful in his life, and his responding nod is firm, sure. "Count me in."

"Good. I'll let you know when we're ready to leave," is all that Luhan says, before he leaves Yixing and Jongin alone in the room once again. 

That's when Yixing reaches for Jongin's hand and spins him around so that they're face to face. There is a mixture of pride and concern in Yixing's brilliant brown eyes, and Jongin almost feels as though he could drown in them. He really wouldn't mind. Zhang Yixing has anchored him so firmly to reality during this trying week, never failing to be there to support and encourage Jongin along the way. Jongin has no idea what would have happened to him, if Yixing wasn't there for him. It makes him all the more appreciative of Yixing, and perhaps a little more in love. 

"Are you sure you want to do this, Jongin?" Yixing asks quietly, reaching up to cup Jongin's cheek with a warm hand. Jongin smiles as he leans into the touch, lashes fluttering shut. It just feels so natural to be around Yixing. "It's going to be dangerous, and you don't have full control of your powers yet."

"I'll just have to use the opportunity to practice as much as I can. I've been making good progress, haven't I?" Jongin grins. Luhan said so, anyway, and he's managed to avoid slamming into walls over the last couple of days. Then there's him teleporting himself and Yixing to the orphanage, which is considered a higher level of mastery. He'll be fine. "Don't worry, Yixing. Luhan will be there. You'll be there too, won't you?" 

Another sigh as Yixing leans in to press his forehead against Jongin's. "What am I ever going to do with you? You're so reckless sometimes."

"Isn't that the whole point of you being around?" Jongin teases back. His heart is pounding hard against his ribcage, owing to the lack of distance between their faces. Yixing's warm breath is fanning across his lips, and Jongin feels a little bold, the temptation to lean in growing by the minute. So he bites on his lower lip and gauges Yixing's reaction; he's not left disappointed, when he notices how Yixing swallows convulsively at the sight of it. "Besides," Jongin continues, his voice dropping to a bare whisper. "You like me too much to leave me alone, don't you?" 

Yixing mumbles something suspiciously close to a Chinese swear word, before closing the last of the distance between them. Jongin lets out a contented sigh the moment Yixing's lips, warm and soft, touches his, and he finds himself relaxing in Yixing's hold. He hadn't realised how much he wanted this until now, and he makes his desire known by deepening the kiss, letting Yixing lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue. His skin tingles where Yixing's fingers have skimmed across, his nerve endings feeling alight, and Jongin really doesn't want this to end, pressing even closer to Yixing's body, fisting the front of his shirt in his hands. 

Yixing's eyes are glazed when they part for air, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink, and Jongin smiles at the sight. His pulse is still racing from the kiss, making him a little lightheaded, but he's in no capacity to feel embarrassed by what had just transpired between them. 

"We'll be okay," Yixing finally says once he manages to catch his breath, resting his head in the crook of Jongin's neck as he wraps his arms around Jongin's waist, and Jongin returns the hug, feeling completely at home . "We'll be okay."

 

♠︎

 

The rumoured laboratory is situated beneath the remains of the Seoul National University Hospital, Jongin learns soon enough. He also learns that the rest of the guardians have been spying on the structure for a while now, trying to determine how they could best access it without getting caught in the process. It's heavily guarded up front and towards the other exit at the back, but the perimeters are otherwise not barricaded. The government must be worried that it might attract too much attention if anyone happens to wander past, if they set up fences around a structure which was supposed to have been destroyed during the apocalypse, and thus serves no actual use. 

It means good news for them, though. Luhan has the exact plan to get them past the guards. 

The reconnaissance mission takes place several days after Jongin and Yixing's shared kiss. He spends the rest of the briefing session decidedly avoiding Luhan's eyes, because he catches the teasing glint in them whenever he meets Luhan's gaze at first. Jongin doesn't miss out on the rest of the details, though, knowing that there's no room for screwups—it could end up with them being captured and experimented upon, and Jongin is hell-bent on avoiding such treatment. 

It's a good thing they were able to steal a pair of labcoats for Jongin and Luhan, courtesy of Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. Despite their small stature, they're surprisingly adept in close-quarters combat, bringing down two unsuspecting scientists who walked out of the facility for a smoke without much hassle. Jongin is rather impressed, but wastes no time in following after Luhan the moment the older boy makes his move. 

He's never seen Luhan's powers in use before, but he soon learns how powerful it actually is. The guards at the entrance initially strongly insisted on them scanning their irises to confirm their identities, something which Luhan and Jongin clearly couldn't do for fear of triggering the security alarm and bringing the entire facility into a lockdown. A few sweet words on Luhan's part later, they were acting like they were completely possessed, and gave no further trouble to the pair, even granting them access by scanning their own irises at the device. Luhan's grin is triumphant as he pulls Jongin along, but not after thanking the guards with a saccharinely sweet voice, telling them to remember to erase the security camera footage.

"How did you do that?" Jongin finds himself whispering once the doors slide close behind them, making sure to hide himself in the shadows where the security cameras could not capture them on film. 

Luhan merely shrugs and grins at him. "That's the beauty of being the guardian who can control minds, on top of reading them." For once, Jongin is glad that he's immune to the effects of the other guardians' powers, apart from Luhan's occasionally intrusive mind-reading tendencies. He doesn't want to be on the receiving end of having his mind controlled. Who knows what sort of embarrassing stuff Luhan would make him do if he could?

It doesn't take them long to find what they were looking for. The facility hidden beneath the ruins of the Seoul National University Hospital is much smaller than they had expected, but no less advanced in terms of technology. Jongin's blood boils at the sight of the machines and computers, as well as the amount of scientists milling about—they definitely do not come cheap, which nullifies the government's rhetoric about not having enough money to rebuild the city or to give out medical aid to those who greatly require them. How _could_ they—?

Luhan interrupts Jongin's thoughts with a gentle hand on his shoulder, and a firm shake of his head. "Don't get riled up. You know your abilities will go haywire when your emotions are out of control. We can't risk that." 

"How can you not get angry at _that_?" Jongin hisses through clenched teeth, gesturing at the clinical area below. "These machines must cost hundreds of millions, which would have been more than enough to provide the basic amenities to the people of Korea. Then there are people left starving on the streets, and children walking around homeless because their parents could no longer provide for them!"

" _Jongin_ ," Luhan reprimands sharply, and his expression is grim as he casts a look at the glass cylinders in the far corner of the open space. "Calm yourself down. This isn't even the worst of it yet." 

_There's worse?_ , Jongin wants to ask, but the words die on his tongue when they descend the last flight of stairs, heading down to the area which is devoid of scientists and guards alike, providing them with the perfect opportunity to explore as much of the place as they can. The moment they come face to face with the glass cylinders and their contents, though, the bile instantly rushes up the column of Jongin's throat. It's only by a miracle that he didn't end up emptying his stomach contents on the floor, but it doesn't make him any less nauseated by what he's seeing with his own eyes. 

These glass cylinders are about two metres in height, each filled to the brim with an odd bluish liquid. There are _humans_ —men and women alike, all dressed in stark white hospital gowns—suspended within these glass cylinders, alive and breathing through a transparent mask cupped over their faces. They seem to be deeply sedated, however, eyes serenely closed as they float about in the liquid. Jongin would have thought they were only sleeping, if it wasn't for the fact that they had numerous wires connected to their bodies, monitoring the changes in their vital signs by the second. 

Jongin deduces that they must be the other guardians' parents and relatives. There are signs attached to each glass cylinder, informing its viewer of the ancient power held by the human contained within. There are also statuses of each "experiment" scribbled in smaller print under the description of their powers, some indicating that the powers have been successfully extracted and developed, while research is still ongoing for the remaining ones. His fingers only grow colder by the minute as he heads down the corridor of cylinders, afraid of what he might discover. Beside him, Luhan has his lips pressed into a thin line, knuckles white from anger as he keeps them firmly held to his sides. There's no doubt Luhan feels riled up too, but he's a lot better than Jongin is at keeping his emotions under check. 

He comes into a halting stop when they arrive at the penultimate cylinder though, his stomach churning in protest when he raises his gaze and is greeted by the sleeping face of his mother. His father is placed in the cylinder next to hers, also in a deeply sedated state, though both their bodies have more scars than the rest of the guardians, a sure sign that they had fought against their unlawful captivity before they were forced to yield. All his life, Jongin had believed that his parents had perished in the apocalypse which wiped out more than half of the human population across the world, but yet here they are, suspended in some grotesque blue liquid and subjected to disgusting tests done on their body without their knowledge. 

That's when Jongin's legs completely give way from the shock, causing him to collapse onto the metal walkway on his knees. Luhan calls out in surprise as he reaches out to grab hold of Jongin, though it's a terrible mistake on his part. His voice resonates throughout the open space, which catches the attention of the guards closest to them. It doesn't take long for them to recognise Jongin and Luhan as impostors, weapons raised as they charge towards the pair. 

"Jongin! Come on, we have to go!" Luhan urges, dragging Jongin along by the arm. "We can't get caught here! You _need_ to use your power to get us out!" 

Jongin looks up groggily, feeling his vision swim with even the smallest movements of his head, but thankfully he could register what Luhan is trying to tell him. If they end up being captured, then the rest of the guardians would lose their leaders, and the rest of the world would be plunged into a state of grave danger. It's obvious that the government are experimenting on the wielders of these ancient powers with ulterior motives hidden up their sleeves, and Jongin and Luhan's abilities are the final ingredients they require to make their project a success.

To hell if Jongin is going to allow that to happen.

Accepting Luhan's help in getting to his feet, Jongin closes his eyes and tries his level best to stay focused. He pulls the imagery of their safehouse into mind, tapping into the latent energy stored in his body in order to trigger the chain of reaction required for him to teleport himself and Luhan back. He doesn't stop until the familiar sensation of an invisible force clamping down around his throat begins, and in the next moment, they're sucked right into the void created from thin air.

And then they're gone, leaving behind thin wisps of black smoke in their trail.

 

♠︎

 

The atmosphere in the main hall of the orphanage is immensely grim, despite it being a lot more populated than it had been in almost two weeks. The bloodstains on the wall are slowly fading, eroded by time and the slow movement of air through the house, but nothing can possibly change what had happened in the past weeks. 

It's insane, having to wrap his mind around the fact that his parents are very much alive—have been alive in the last ten years, albeit imprisoned in a state of prolonged sleep—when he had initially thought they were dead. Mirae doesn't seem as surprised by the information when he relays it to her though, probably having guessed as much when the rumours about the secret laboratory had started circulating amongst the grassroots. Jongin can't shake off the resentment he feels in a small part of his soul for her, though; she shouldn't have concealed such an important bit of information from him. Shouldn't have instilled the taste of despair in young Kim Jongin who only wanted his parents to come back for him as they had promised. 

"What should we do now?" Junmyeon, the guardian who holds the power to control water, is the first to speak up from across the room, breaking the silence which had settled upon the room for the last thirty minutes. Beside him, Kyungsoo remains unmoving, staring intently at the ground beneath his feet as he loses himself in his own thoughts. 

Both Luhan and Jongin had agreed that they had to convene with Mirae at the orphanage after their trip to the government's secret facility. There is no way they could sit back and allow their loved ones to remain in there. They're all humans first and foremost, and it's disgusting of the government to actually run forbidden experiments on them without their consent. There's almost no doubt that the government has been experimenting on their genetic make-up, extracting parts of their DNA which codes for their special powers to be replicated and injected into another human who was born without it. They were trying to make an _army_ of superhumans with these ancient powers, but with the guaranty that they would remain loyal to the government. It's clear that they could not recruit the original guardians to side with them without risking the backlash, if the way Jongin's parents had fought against them is anything to go by. 

Besides, Mirae has extensive connections around Shin-Seoul. There are a lot more people who are willing to topple the corrupt government and instate a new world order than Jongin had initially thought, and Mirae is the one who could rally them all. Several of the most influential people around Shin-Seoul have been gathered here with the guardians, and though they were largely sceptical of the guardians at first—mostly because they all looked too young to be in possession of such dangerous abilities—Mirae was able to coax them into investing their trust in the group of twelve. 

Everyone is beyond desperate to change the government. What they wanted was a government who cared enough for their basic needs, not one which spent millions on an experiment to further reduce the world into ruins. 

"We need to attack that secret facility and get our families out. That is a given," Luhan says, voice authoritative and confident despite his youthful appearance. Jongin is glad they have him as the leader of their small group; he's clearly a lot smarter than he lets on, and calm even in the face of adversity. Luhan had proved as much during their botched reconnaissance mission the other day. 

"Won't they have evacuated it by now?" Yifan asks, concerned. "I mean, they did catch the both of you intruding the other day. They must know that they can't stay there for long."

Jongin's cheeks heat up at the reminder; he's the one to blame for exposing their location, albeit indirectly. If only he could hold himself together, they wouldn't have been caught snooping around the laboratory. Nevertheless, Yixing is there for him as always, and he intertwines his fingers with Jongin's as a form of reassurance as he says, "I don't think so, unless they have another facility which is well-stocked with their equipments. They won't be able to move this many cylinders out of the Detrita and into the next district—if they have a backup plan at all—without attracting unwanted attention."

There are murmurs of agreement going around the room, and the matter is soon laid to rest when Luhan suggests that Jongin should teleport into the facility to ascertain that it is still there before they strike. It's a risky move, of course, but Jongin is determined not to screw things up again. It's the least he could do for the group, and he's the only one with the ability to accomplish the task, after all. 

"What about the government, then? Even if we managed to rescue our family members and expose the government's secret facility, they'd definitely come after us in full force, to regain what they've lost," the second tallest guardian called Chanyeol informs. 

"That's where we come in," Mirae reassures him. "I have a close friend who is a high-ranking general in the army. The soldiers are being informed of the atrocities condoned by the government as we speak, and I believe we will have their unconditional support in no time. They're being subjected to harsh conditions too, and the government has been cutting down on their rations without providing them a satisfactory explanation for their actions. We'll strike the central government building at the same time that you do, and we'll bring down the corrupted government structure once and for all. It's high time they're made to pay for their long years of inaction." 

Luhan claps his hands together with the confirmation on Mirae's end, signifying the end of their discussion for the evening. They're all ushered off to get some rest, seeing that they have an important mission to carry out in less than twenty-four hours' time. It's imperative that they stayed focus throughout.

Yixing finds his place by Jongin's side the moment they've dispersed out of the orphanage, and boldly links his hand with Jongin's as they veer off the common path. The veil of night offers them the privacy they need, something which Jongin is extremely thankful for. There isn't much time left till their planned attack, and he wants to spend as much of it in Yixing's presence as possible. There's no saying if they could walk out of the secret facility alive; the stakes are incredibly high, and the government will surely be prepared for another intrusion after the other day's incident. More soldiers, more guns. They don't even have an idea if the government has formulated anything else to nullify the guardians' powers. 

"You're thinking too loudly. Don't worry too much about it," Yixing whispers, bumping his shoulder against Jongin's as they take a stroll down the street. It's a rare moment of peace, something which Jongin greatly treasures.

"How could I not be?" Jongin wryly smiles in response. "My parents are in there. Alive. I don't want to screw up and be the one to cause their deaths with my own hands." 

"Hey," Yixing stops them in their tracks, turning Jongin around so that he could hold Jongin's gaze. "Don't say that. You'll do just fine, and you won't cause your parents' deaths, alright? We'll be there with you. _I'll_ be there with you." 

"I know. I just can't stop worrying," Jongin sighs, swinging their hands between their bodies, looking anywhere but at Yixing's eyes. He's so close to having his parents back in his life, but of course life has to throw him a curveball in the form of him having to save his parents before that can happen. There's no saying if his parents can even recognise him after all these years, or if those experiments performed on them had messed with their brains. There is only one real way of finding out, though Jongin isn't sure if he'll be mentally prepared for it. 

Jongin's taken by surprise when Yixing suddenly pulls him into a hug. The position is a little awkward, especially considering the fact that Jongin's taller than Yixing, but he melts at the proximity regardless. "Worrying will only distract you from the bigger picture, Jongin. You're doing much better than I did when I had first started using my powers. Just trust in yourself, and you'll be okay. By this time tomorrow, we'll hopefully be able to rest easy, and with a new government in place."

It's not much of a reassurance—anything can happen during the _blitzkrieg_ taking place tomorrow; anything can go wrong, anyone could get hurt—but Jongin still nods in understanding, wrapping his arms around Yixing's smaller frame. He can only manage a small, half-hearted smile when Yixing presses a chaste kiss to his lips, but it definitely strengthens his resolution. 

He won't let Yixing get hurt, no matter what, and he _will_ safely get his parents out of their jail cells, even if that's the last thing he could do.

 

♠︎

 

They attack at daybreak.

This time, there isn't any form of sweet-talking on Luhan's part. His gaze is cold as he walks right up to the guards manning the entrance, and takes over their minds without even giving them the opportunity to react. That's when Jongin realises Luhan is truly livid about their discovery the other day. He can feel it in the way their powers are resonating with each other, Luhan's aura almost angry and unforgiving as he turns the soldiers into his puppets. 

As expected, the government is fully prepared this time, probably having learned from their mistake of being too complacent and lax with their security. There's a larger military presence in the facility this time, waiting for them in the open space leading towards the underground laboratory. The security alarm is blaring through the speakers by the time the group manages to enter the facility, alerting everyone of a hostile takeover, and Jongin's head pounds at the noise. 

But they're determined to end this today.

Despite being horribly overwhelmed in terms of number, the twelve of them have the advantage of being highly unpredictable, and extremely pissed off at the government for turning their loved ones into experimental subjects for their own greed. After making sure that Yixing is safely hidden in the shadows, Jongin leads the assault by zipping out of sight, before reappearing next to a soldier and grabbing his rifle. He knocks the soldier out with the butt of his own weapon, then turns upon the man next to him to do the same. A stray bullet is fired from the second soldier's weapon, hitting another colleague of his in the thigh and sending him crumpling to the ground in pain. 

It's complete chaos from that point onwards. There's a lot of confusion amongst the soldiers who have been tasked to guard the facility, some crying foul when they manage to take a good look of the guardians' faces. "They're just kids! Why are we doing this?!" Jongin hears one of them ask, and he's glad that the man actually lowers his weapon, refusing to take part in this insanity. It's clear that they were not properly briefed prior to this, and were tricked into thinking that they were up against a group of extremely dangerous individuals who were trying to steal their experiments as well as any form of data collected over the last few years. 

"Do you want to know why?" Luhan's voice rises above the noise in the open space just then, gaining most of the soldiers' attention. "The government is using _our_ parents, _our_ loved ones for their own gain. We have never thought about endangering the nation with our abilities, and we certainly do not wish to hurt or kill any one of you if we can help it. Our only intention is to save our loved ones, and bring them out of this place safely. So please, listen to our pleas; open your eyes to the atrocities being committed by the government you are pledging your loyalty to. Human experimentation is unethical no matter how you look at it!" 

"Don't listen to them!" The general leading the group shouts, furious that his soldiers should hesitate in the face of the enemy's attacks. "They are trying to mislead you into surrendering with ease. Now remember who is feeding you, and raise your weapons right this instance!"

Unfortunately for the middle-aged general—or fortunately for Jongin's group—the company's morale takes a severe beating, especially when Luhan reminds them that their welfare has never been properly taken care of by the government, that the money which should have been utilised to rebuild the nation has been channelled into running a pointless, expensive experiment which will not directly benefit anyone but the ones running the government themselves. Some of them downright refuse to partake in fighting against the guardians, while others turn upon their own colleagues, arguing over the noise of rifles clashing and trying to talk them out of their stupidity. 

The other guardians go easy on their attacks, merely slowing down the soldiers who are still trying to actively fight against them. Kyungsoo himself creates a small earthquake within the facility, bringing everyone down to their knees, while Minseok conjures a thin layer of ice on the ground, causing anyone who tries to get up to slip and fall again. Chanyeol and Yifan, on the other hand, transform into their phoenix and dragon forms respectively, hovering in the air in a threatening manner. At least it's effective enough to keep the last of the soldiers at bay, and the general who was trying to get his men to continue fighting finds himself tied up in a corner, thanks to Jongdae who forms a pair of handcuffs out of his ability to manipulate electrical currents. One wrong move, and the general would be electrocuted to death. 

When the active opposition from the soldiers has died down, the guardians divide themselves in half; six of them are tasked to guard the soldiers left behind in the open space, to ensure that they wouldn't try anything funny, or contact the main government building for assistance. Meanwhile, Luhan, Jongin, Yixing, Junmyeon, Minseok, and Baekhyun move on to the next area where their families are being held captive. The last of the soldiers who are tasked to guard the clinical area are quickly taken down, leaving only the scientists who are essentially harmless. It's easy enough to force these scientists into surrendering, and Luhan doesn't even have to use his powers to order them to free the prisoners. 

Jongin is quick to teleport them to the centre of the room once they've been released from the glass cylinders, where Junmyeon absorbs every last bit of moisture coating their bodies and soaking their clothes to keep them warm. Apparently, the scientists have added some sort of chemical compound into the fluid surrounding the older generation of guardians to keep them sedated, and the effect doesn't wear off despite removing them from the liquid.

Yixing, who has been watching everything unfold from the sidelines since the beginning because of the defensive nature of his abilities, finally steps forth and kneels beside Jongin's mother. Jongin quickly joins him once he's done transporting everyone, concern etched on his features. The head scientist had told them there wasn't a reversal agent for the drug—they didn't have the need for it, since the guardians had to be kept continuously sedated, lest they regained their consciousness and wreaked havoc upon the laboratory—but Yixing isn't the least bit perturbed by that bit of information. 

Once he's done analysing Jongin's mother's condition, Yixing lets the familiar orange glow erupt from the tips of his fingers, enveloping her body with it. Several minutes felt like an eternity to him as Jongin waits with bated breath, watching his mother's face closely for any indication of her regaining her consciousness. The worry rapidly dissolves into relief when her eyelids flutter open moments later, and Jongin thinks he could cry from happiness when she starts moving her limbs—much to the scientists' surprise, of course. They hadn't gotten their hands on Yixing's family members, who have all perished when the apocalypse had struck, and thus were unable to examine the nature of his abilities. 

Jongin immediately scoops his mother into his arms once Yixing gives him the green light, cradling her gently as he sobs openly from joy. "Mom? Mom. It's me, Jongin. Can you hear me?" Yixing's smile is patient, supportive hand on the small of Jongin's back as he waits with Jongin before moving onto the next guardian, and Jongin is glad that Yixing is here with him, during one of the most important moments in his life. 

"Jongin?" It takes a moment longer before she finds her voice, though it sounds hoarse from disuse. Jongin can't even find the words to say, completely overwhelmed by emotions, and the only thing he could do was to nod furiously until his mother finally opens her eyes.

Nonetheless, there isn't the slightest hint of recognition in her eyes when she looks at him, mere confusion clouding her gaze. Jongin's heart positively breaks when the next question leaves her lips:

"Do I know you?"

 

♠︎

 

Jongin dangles his legs over the ledge of the building, exhaling quietly as he admires the sight of the sun sinking lower towards the horizon. Sunset has always been his favourite time of the day, especially when twilight slowly fades into dusk. It gives him a sense of extraordinary peace, watching as the birds flock back to their nests, and the people filling the streets gradually return home to their families. The only sounds that permeate the atmosphere come in the form of muffled conversations from the houses nearby, occasionally punctuated with happy laughter.

Two months ago, Jongin never would have thought that it'd be possible for him to experience such an atmosphere. Laughter was barely heard when the people were suffering from extreme poverty, looks of worry etched on their features as they wonder when their next meal would be. That's all in the past, though, and Jongin's happy to have played a pivotal role in reversing the situation for his country, and perhaps pioneering a change in the rest of the world. 

There were similar laboratories found in various parts of other countries, experimenting on the wielders of ancient powers they managed to get their hands on, all in the expense of their own people. They were swiftly brought to the ground and destroyed, of course, and while there were leaders of countries who denied having any role in these illegal experiments, at least they had enough conscience to do a complete overhaul of their financial structuring, finally listening to the voice of their people and distributing aid where it is needed most. 

Back in his own country, the situation still isn't ideal, though it's definitely a great improvement from before. Mirae's group had successfully captured the corrupt government officials who were responsible for the secret facility, and toppled the government with the help of her General friend. He was subsequently instated as the temporary leader of the new government, in order to push for rehabilitative measures while the country rebuilds itself and prepares to elect a new leader. 

At the very least, the captured guardians are now free to live their lives without fear. 

A smile blooms on Jongin's features when someone comes to sit with him on the rooftop. Yixing's equally bright smile greets him when he turns to look, and Jongin thinks this is the start to a perfect night. The rooftop of the orphanage has been converted into their favourite place to be alone together, since it offers them one of the best views of Shin-Seoul's starry night skies. 

"Hey," Yixing quips as he makes himself comfortable beside Jongin. "You're here early."

"I'd finished my chores around the house," Jongin shrugs, "Mirae said I could take a breather here while they whip up dinner."

"Oh, so _that's_ why she shot me a knowing look when I excused myself to come up here," Yixing muses, and they both laugh at his words. Their relationship isn't exactly a secret amongst the guardians and those who know them well enough any longer, courtesy of Luhan's big mouth. Then again, it's not as though they had intended to keep it to themselves at all; the circumstances back then was different, and they had more important things to worry about. 

"Doesn't she always do that? I swear, she's going to be the first to force us to get married, if she ever gets her way," Jongin snorts, though his cheeks immediately burn in embarrassment when he realises what he had just said. 

Yixing's equally stunned for a short moment, before a mischievous grin makes its presence known. "Don't you want to? Marry me, I mean."

If they weren't seated in such a precarious position right now, Jongin would have shoved at Yixing for asking such an embarrassing question. He opts to scowl at Yixing instead. "Maybe, but not now," Jongin says, then mellows down when he thinks about his current situation. "Not when my parents are still like this." 

The playfulness is gone from Yixing in an instant, and he wraps an arm around Jongin's shoulder, pulling him close to offer him some comfort. "Sorry, I forgot. How are they doing now?" 

"Better. They're slowly coming to terms with the time lapse," Jongin answers, sincere.

They've come a long way since being rescued from the glass cylinders at the secret facility, and though they were still frightened by how much things have changed since they last remembered the world to be, they were slowly becoming more accepting of it. It definitely helps that his parents still remember Mirae—very fondly, if Jongin might add—and it's the source of Jongin's unfounded jealousy sometimes. Mirae's godsend, though, her patience never running thin as she helps Jongin's parents readjust to the new world. They're still unused to Jongin's presence, although Jongin can't find it in him to feel bitter. They did leave him as a ten-year-old, after all, and he can imagine how shocked they must have been to learn that he's practically a grown up now. 

Still, his parents are trying hard to fit in, frequently talking to Jongin in an effort to get to know their son better. It helps. He needs to persevere for their sake, too. 

"That's good to hear," Yixing smiles at him. "Your hard work will pay off someday, I'm sure." 

Jongin nods, and they lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence, just gazing at the stars dotting the sky above them. Yixing absently plays with Jongin's fingers, as if examining every detail on his hands, though Jongin's taken by surprise when something _cold_ slides down the length of his finger. 

He pulls his hand away at once, eyes widening when he notices how Yixing had slipped a metal band around his right ring finger. Yixing's laughing when Jongin turns to look at him questioningly, eyes turning into crescents from amusement. 

"Yixing, what—"

"A promise," Yixing interjects quickly, raising his arms defensively before him when Jongin threatens to hit him for pulling such a surprise. "You said you might consider marrying me someday, but this is my promise to you. I _do_ want to spend the rest of my life with you, when the situation gets better. So please—" Yixing playfully bats his lashes at Jongin, and he's torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. "—keep it with you? You can take it off if you decide that you've gotten tired of me someday—"

"You're an idiot, do you know that?" Jongin huffs, though he can't stop himself from smiling as he throws his arms around Yixing's neck and kisses him full on the lips. 

Their story may not be a perfect one from the very beginning, dotted with the times when Jongin had doubted Yixing and his motives, but eventually Yixing had proven himself to be trustworthy. Jongin only grows even more in love with Yixing by the day, and he's certain they'll find their imperfectly perfect happy ending. 

Someday.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Jongseob, Hyunjin, and Hanbyeol are the kids who participated in KPop Star Hunt Season 6!  
> \- Yes, that's Ong Seongwoo of Wanna One, as well as Irene + Wendy of RV.  
> \- [Here is a map](http://imgur.com/a/qYMX2) of Shin-Seoul to give you a better idea of what it's like~ 
> 
> Feel free to ask questions in the comments if there's anything you're confused about the storyline, and I'll try my best to answer them :) Also, I may or may not write side stories for the other guardians — subject to time availability as well as plot ideas. 
> 
> *here's a virtual cookie if you managed to make it till the end*


End file.
